The Times That Define Us
by LVfangirl
Summary: Veronica has been gone 9 years & has no plans to come home until a phone call rattles her world and she comes rushing to her father's side. She finds herself flung into the seedy underbelly of Neptune. LoVE some MaDi Rated T but M will be noted in the chap titles This story touches on the movie but will be taking its own organic path.
1. Chapter 1

Rated: T+ with chapters later that will touch M. Language and Sexuality, but I will definitely mark those chapters as such when the time comes.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Premise: Veronica has been gone for nine years. It is the week of Neptune High's 10 year Reunion. Logan hired Keith to solve Carrie's murder; and Keith has just solved the case when we begin this story. Logan was not framed; Carrie's death was staged as a suicide.

This story has elements of the movie but will take off in its own organic direction. This is a LoVe story with a potential of MaDi (Mac's POV, but very light as I will focus mostly on LoVe, and later chapters for MaDi probably starting around chap 7 or so) NO PIZ.

* * *

Chapter 1 Full-Blown Storm Mode

Life had a cruel sense of humor. Logan had learned that lesson years ago, long before things had obviously been too good to be true. The misleading lull right before a storm made everything around him deceivingly perfect and pristine; a vanilla sky overhead that seemed to trump the ominous gray cloud rolling in from the west.

Although Logan was very aware of how quickly things could change, it never ceased to catch him completely off-guard when the storm finally erupted in its full-fledged glory. And erupt it always did, for reasons he never, ever understood.

The past few years had been going great for him; so well, in fact, that Logan had affixed his eyes to that vanilla-sky-blandness. He'd ignored the nagging feeling at the base of his spine telling him that something would soon upset his perfectly constructed life. It was, he knew, the best way to keep the shell of denial cocooned tightly about himself.

If Logan had only taken the time looked around him, there was all the possibility in the world he would have seen the rapidly approaching wind from the west, but content with the illusion of cold, he'd chosen not to. Perhaps if he had looked, he would have seen at least some of this coming, that in reality his perfectly constructed life was more of carefully constructed house of cards.

Anyone who looked in from the outside of his life saw Logan Echolls, son of misfortune, rising up against the cruel machine of money and fame to become a war hero and highly sought-after bachelor. To a tabloid-reader, Logan had it all.

Pop-star girlfriend. Money. A busy life to keep him from thinking too hard or too long about whether or not he was actually content.

Except lately, that exact question of contentment had frequently popped into the forefront of his mind. The past few times he'd been home on leave, Carrie had been edgy. She would never talk to him about it, but that was nothing new. Theirs had never been a relationship built on pressing too deep. When they'd become involved, there had been a mutual agreement of distance between the two of them. But during these past few months in particular, Logan had noticed that Carrie had become increasingly withdrawn.

So when the phone call came in the middle of the night, Logan had immediately thought of that deceptive vanilla sky. And, though the news had caused shock to course through his body, it quickly settled down into his belly as acceptance. The impending storm had begun.

Logan was granted leave and had been home within two days.

Two days after that, he contacted someone he never thought he would ever talk to again.

There was no one else in the world who Logan trusted more to look into the matter discreetly and without bias. Logan had steeled himself, knowing that he would be alone in his belief that Carrie's death was more than it seemed. Especially in Neptune. In Neptune, people liked to accept the obvious answer, the obvious explanation. Logan knew instinctively that no one else would prod into Carrie's official cause of death even when the facts didn't add up. Open and shut was the preferred way of life in Balboa County.

Because Logan was unsatisfied with the investigation's findings, he'd had no other choice. He'd made the phone call to Mars Investigations, to a dogged private investigator, known as the best in the business. Keith wouldn't rest until he was satisfied that the evidence proved the case.

Two days after making that call, Logan had received confirmation that his fear was founded.

Carrie had been murdered. Everyone in town, possibly everyone in the _world_ believed Carrie Bishop aka Bonnie DeVille had taken her own life. But Keith Mars had found proof that Carrie had enemies.

Mars Investigations had found the proof and now the culprits responsible for Carrie's murder were rotting in jail awaiting trial. It was only a matter of time before the news of it hit all the major news outlets.

Logan was sickened that it had been Gia, Stu, and Luke, the members of their inner circle, who were responsible for Carrie's death. It was her closest friends, the ones who had known her the best and had claimed to love her, who had taken her life. They'd shared secrets, dangerous secrets Logan had come to find out. It was the threat of the exposure of those secrets that had prompted the trio to get rid of any collateral damage. And that collateral damage had been Carrie.

Thanks to Logan hiring Keith, their plan hadn't worked out so well.

* * *

All of this was very much at the forefront of Logan' s mind as he pulled up to a place he'd pretty much denied existed for nine long years. Through the windshield of his convertible, Logan inspected the cute little bungalow where Keith Mars now lived. Here Logan was, by invitation no less, to meet with the man he'd once believed would become his father-in-law. It almost felt like a scene straight out of _Father Knows Best_. While Logan had never bought into that illusion, he liked that Keith Mars now lived in such an ideal setting.

Glancing at the time, Logan saw he was a good twenty minutes early. He'd learned years before, however, Keith Mars considered punctuality next to godliness. So instead of waiting, Logan got out of his car, locked the door, and looked both ways before crossing the street. The neighborhood was definitely an improvement to where Keith had once lived. It was a quiet, well-lit street with little houses lined with well-manicured lawns. It gave the appearance that nothing ever bad happened there.

He stepped up onto the curb just as he heard the loud revving of an engine. Logan curiously glanced down the street. What he saw stopped him cold. The source of the noise was a ratty looking truck that was tearing full speed down the street. Just ahead, between him and the truck, Logan saw a small compact car pulling out of a small parking garage. He watched in horror as the truck sped up and rammed full-throttle into the little car. The car spun around from the force of the impact and the truck zoomed off. Logan was frozen in utter shock. He couldn't quite believe what he'd just witnessed. The wrecked car sat lifeless in the center of the road with steam emanating from its hood. Through the foggy windows, Logan could see what looked to be two people, unconscious, in the front seats.

His military training kicked in and adrenaline took over. Logan ran toward the car, taking in the scene as he ran: small car, front end bashed in, passenger door untouched. Two men, both in the front of the car, injured and unmoving. Fluid of some kind was pooling underneath the engine onto the ground.

As Logan approached the little car he tried to see through its window. His steps faltered slightly when he recognized Keith Mars slumped over in the passenger seat. "Mr. Mars?" he yelled out, panicking. The older man was lifeless. "Oh my God, Mr. Mars?" He ran quickly to the door, pulling wildly at the handle.

Luck was on Logan's side. The car, being an older model, didn't have automatic locks. Because of this, the door opened easily and Logan reached straight in to immediately press his fingers against Keith's neck, searching for a pulse. It was thready but present. He breathed a sigh of slight relief and took the moment to pull out his phone. He kept his eyes on Keith as he blindly dialed 911 with his left hand while running his right hand down Keith's torso checking for injuries. He glanced at the driver of the car, who was completely sprawled over the steering wheel. Logan knew what death looked like; he didn't have much hope for Keith's companion.

When the call connected, Logan pulled his eyes away from the driver and back onto Keith while he began to explain the emergency. His words died on his lips when he heard the sound of a revving engine once again. When he looked behind him to see the source of the noise, his eyes widened in comprehension. The ratty truck had turned and was now heading full speed toward the little car once again. The phone slipped from between Logan's fingers as he pulled frantically at Keith's seat belt.

"Come on, come on!" He muttered desperately, his fingers slipping as he pulled at the buckle. Mercifully it disengaged. Logan flipped the strap away and aggressively pulled Keith's limp body out of the car and onto the ground, dragging the older man's feet hard against the rim of the door. Just seconds after Logan got Keith safely to the sidewalk, Logan heard the loud boom of the truck smashing into the small car a second time. Logan reacted by throwing himself over Keith's body, hands over his head. He pulled himself up and off of Keith once he felt that the truck had taken off for good. Logan, breathing hard, looked down into the older man's pale and bloodied face. Taking no more time for reflection, Logan crouched on his knees and began checking Keith's vitals.

A group of neighbors was now milling about the sidewalks, summoned out of their homes by the sound of crushing glass and metal. Since Logan's phone had been lost in the shuffle, he yelled urgently to the crowd, "Someone call an ambulance! NOW!" while he continued to work to keep Keith alive.

And thus began the second wave of the storm Logan had foolishly assumed was over.

***Break***

The doctors wouldn't tell Logan much of anything, but he hadn't been born yesterday. Keith wasn't at all well. Logan would have to find Veronica. She would have to come home.

During these past few days working with Keith, Logan had resolutely kept all thoughts of the sassy blonde firmly out of his mind. Now his heart lurched at the thought of seeing her. It had been nine years since he'd talked to her - four years since he'd last seen her.

 _-FLASHBACK-_

 _The Navy gave Logan a furlough of four days in New York City. He and a bunch of the guys found a tiny little restaurant on some random street in Little Italy to eat. When dinner was finished, Logan paid his share of the bill and then stepped out onto the curb to wait for the rest of guys, enjoying the American air that he missed so much when he was overseas. Before the door had even shut behind him, Logan's eyes rested on a woman walking around the corner of the building. He'd frozen in utter shock when he saw her. Veronica._

 _Her hair was shorter, her clothes more professional. She carried a sleek black computer bag and wore black slacks with a belted trench coat over it. She was on the phone, looking down, not paying any attention to anyone or anything around her. The phone conversation was heated and Logan felt just as intense while drinking in the sight of her. She looked well. She looked healthy. The sound of her voice carried down the quiet street and into his soul._

 _His mouth opened to greet her, but he thought better of it. Instead, he stepped out of the light and into the shadow to wait for his friends to join him. He'd hoped she wouldn't notice the faces of each man in their casual whites. Years earlier, when Veronica had been suspicious of everything and everyone, she would have noticed them automatically. But Logan was banking on the knowledge that she came to New York to change, to be more…normal._

 _The group of men exited the building and one yelled out to him, "Hey, Logan, man, why are you lurking?"_

 _Logan immediately honed in on Veronica's face. He had to see what her reaction to his name would be - to see if there was any recognition. He had no way of knowing if anyone had told her he was in the Navy now and no way of knowing if it even mattered to her._

 _Her reaction broke his heart. Her call ended just as the sailor had yelled out his greeting to Logan. Veronica stilled and her eyes jumped up to the crowd of men, searching the faces._

 _And he knew it. He knew that she knew he was there. Logan allowed himself to openly stare at her and their eyes connected, even in the dimness. His heart was in his throat and he was faced with the decision of whether or not to speak to her. The choice was quickly taken away from him when the men started brushing past him one by one. He didn't move, keeping his eyes locked on hers. It was Veronica who broke the spell. He watched in disappointment as she determinedly turned around and walked back around the corner, disappearing once again out of his life._

 _Her message couldn't have been any clearer. She wanted nothing to do with him._

 _-END FLASHBACK-_

Logan blinked the memory away.

Logan sat back in one of the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room trying to decide what his next step should be. The EMTs had insisted that Logan come to Neptune Memorial to be treated for shock. His insistence that he was fine fell on deaf ears. He'd been admitted and discharged in less than an hour and now he needed someone to pick him up.

Dick.

His roommate was of course out partying, so that thought quickly flew out the window. Less than a month ago his other options had been significantly higher in number. But all of those options were now either dead or in jail.

Which left Mac. The two of them had kept in touch over the years and she wasn't averse to hearing from him once in a while. Plus, he needed to talk to her anyway to find Veronica.

Logan decisively pulled out his phone that he'd retrieved from the street once the paramedics were on scene at Keith's. He scrolled down his contact list, found Mac's name and pushed send.

After four rings, Mac's tired voice came on the line. " 'Ello?"

"Mac. It's Logan."

Her silence was telling.

"Listen, it's important."

"You on a bender again?"

"Mac, when is the last time I called you when I was on a bender?"

"Touché. But I hear there might be a good reason for said bender." She blew out a breath. "What else could you possibly want to talk about at ten o'clock at night, Logan? It can't be good."

"No, I suppose it's not. Good, I mean. I need…I need your help. Is there any way you can pick me up? And I need…" He paused, searching for words. He started over. "You need to call Veronica. It's about her dad," he shot out in a rush, not allowing Mac to get a word in before he added, "She needs to come home."

***Break***

2 DAYS EARLIER

NEW YORK CITY

Veronica had just finished her best interview yet. She felt confident walking out of the interview room, happy even. She'd left the interviewers with smiles on their faces. The firm had promised a call within a week. A week! She would be a real lawyer in a week. She could feel it.

She stepped out from the building and immediately was caught in the buzz of street activity. The city was always alive and moving, which was exactly why Veronica loved it so much. It kept her moving, kept her from thinking too hard about why she was there. Everyone that lived in the city had the same goal of making it big, whether in business, or on Broadway, or, well, in _wherever._ It was the camaraderie of ambition amongst the residents that made it easy for Veronica to get swept up in the charm of it all.

Charm, she thought ruefully. It had been a long time since she'd referred to her life in New York City as charming. It was a grueling climb to the top and Veronica wasn't even near the middle rung yet. This position at Truman-Mann would be the first step in many to get where she ultimately wanted to be. It meant being a part of that firm would look excellent on her resume. So what if it was more on the corporate side of law than was her ideal? She could handle that. She didn't need excitement in her life. Excitement always seemed to bring more problems than it was worth.

She quickly made her way to the stairs that led to the subway station. As she did so, her gaze fell on the newspaper stand and then zeroed in on the Entertainment Weekly. Veronica stopped in her tracks, ignoring the grumbling of those around her that had to adjust their stride to avoid running into her, but Veronica paid no notice. The cover of the magazine showed a picture of the pop icon Bonnie DeVille. The words 'dead' and 'suicide' popped out at her, and Veronica moved closer.

A few years back, Veronica had heard how Carrie Bishop of Neptune High changed her name to Bonnie DeVille to pursue a career in music. Under the pseudonym, Carrie had risen in fame as quickly as her songs climbed the charts. When Veronica had known her, Carrie primarily been known as a gossiping-know-it-all, but according to what she was reading, the tides had turned. Now it was Carrie who had become the tabloid fodder. It took a moment for Veronica to reconcile this Bonnie DeVille on the cover to the Carrie Bishop she'd known. A small wave of sorrow briefly swept over Veronica. Now Carrie was just another victim of Neptune, California. It was entirely too easy to believe that Carrie suffered from depression or had been enticed by drugs or a little of both.

Veronica picked up the magazine and thumbed through it to find the Bonnie DeVille article. Seeing that it was more than a few pages long, she fished out a five-dollar bill and told the kiosk vendor to keep the change. She then tucked the magazine under her arm before heading toward the entrance of the subway station to let herself be swallowed up with the crowd making their way underground.

It wasn't until much later when Veronica was alone in her tiny studio apartment that she had time to look at the magazine again. She sat at the island in her kitchen working on her dinner of scrambled eggs and toast when it crossed her mind to read it. Veronica pulled the magazine out from her computer bag and inspected the cover.

It was fascinating to Veronica how peculiar Carrie looked in her odd wig and overdone makeup. The picture reminded Veronica of a modern Cleopatra with her cat like eyes mysteriously staring up at her. It felt surreal to see Carrie in her stage-getup and on the cover of a magazine. It made Veronica even more curious about the girl who had become famous enough to warrant a posthumous cover on Entertainment Weekly. Ten years before it would have been nothing for Veronica to see the people she knew become famous. But that was a long time ago. Upon leaving California, Veronica had made the conscious decision to not pay attention to the rich and famous. She never kept up with the Kardashians; she'd had enough of that during her adolescent years to last a lifetime.

At least, that what she always reminded herself anytime she was instinctively drawn to gossip columns. Usually she would turn away and force herself not to look. Allowing this little glimpse back into that life was highly unusual. But surely one glance every ten years was acceptable, she reasoned. The fact that Veronica had personally known Carrie at one time certainly justified reading about what had become of her.

The article was in the center of the magazine: _Cruel DeVille: How Could She Leave Us?_ Veronica began to read carefully, but the quickly lost interest and flipped through the pages. Veronica stopped at a two-page spread that intrigued her. It was filled with pictures of Bonnie with various people and she too the time to study each picture one by one.

A picture in the middle of the spread made Veronica's mouth go dry. She swallowed hard; her tongue felt like it was suddenly too large for her mouth. She couldn't breathe. Suddenly feeling guilty, her eyes skittered about her apartment. No one was there to see her but she felt irrationally exposed. Automatically, she shut the magazine and pushed it away from her.

After a few moments, Veronica laughed at the absurdity of the situation. She felt like someone had Punk'd her but she knew that wasn't the case. None of her friends in New York even knew about Logan and no one in Neptune would be that cruel. It's been _nine_ years, Veronica! Of course he would have moved on. And why not with Carrie Bishop?

Hesitantly, Veronica opened to the spread once again to examine the caption underneath the picture:

' _Bonnie DeVille with long-time beau, Lt. Logan Echolls during the MTV music awards, September 2015.'_

Long-time beau? Veronica reread the words three times. She then studied the picture more closely. He looked good. Lean, handsome as ever, and aging well. Actually he looked gorgeous. He wore Navy whites, which didn't surprise her. What did shock her was that he had attended an awards ceremony. He was smiling into the camera, seemingly at ease with the fact that a media photographer was taking the picture. The Logan she knew always used to detest paparazzi; he'd avoided red carpet events at all costs. It didn't quite compute with Veronica that he would willingly date a famous person who thrived on that type of attention. Seeing the picture made her heart hurt for him though. It was proof that once again, Logan had lost yet another important person.

She touched the glossy picture and traced Logan's face with her fingertips. His smile had always been balm for her soul, even if no one knew it. Years before, when they were together, his smile never ceased to heal her. Even through this picture Veronica felt as if his smile was just for her. She unconsciously touched her fingers to her lips while she took in all the other pictures, her eyes jumping back to the one of Logan as if to confirm that she'd really seen him. She belatedly realized there were a lot of people in the other pictures that she had once known. But only one picture meant anything to her and it was the one of Logan.

Why hadn't anyone bothered to tell her that Logan was dating Carrie Bishop? Although, that was stupid, really, wasn't it? She'd never requested that anyone keep tabs on him and it wasn't as if she had any right to. She did know about the Navy, though. That was one thing she'd known about for a long time. She'd heard about it and then even seen proof of it, right here in New York…

 _****FLASHBACK****_

 _Veronica had to keep reminding herself that her internship would be over soon. She would be back to the grindstone of class after the summer. The demanding attorneys who expected Veronica to be at their disposal at all hours of the day and night would soon be exhausting some other young intern who was fresh and willing to jump at their every request._

 _Sheila Limquist was the worst of the lot. Instead of learning more about the law and how to go about defending a client, Veronica was sent on coffee runs and to pick up dinner for the firm's toughest attorney. Case in point, Veronica was currently headed to Basilico for take-out; she always complied, acting as if she were eager to do the menial tasks that Sheila afforded her. The irksome truth was that Veronica actually was eager. If she got in good with Sheila, Veronica would be set within the firm. It would be only a matter of time before she was trusted enough to sit in on more meetings and do more actual lawyering. And since she still had years ahead of her before taking the Bar, it would be good to have as much experience as possible for resumes while still taking the early courses. Right now was her chance to get herself ahead of the pack._

 _Her phone rang just as she rounded the corner. Veronica kept her head down to answer the call. It was Sheila, of course, spouting off about a missing file on the company's mainframe. Veronica felt her voice rising in an attempt at calming the other woman down._

 _"Whatever, Veronica, just get the food and get back here. You have to help find the file. Without it, we're sunk." The line went dead and Veronica, sighing, pulled the phone from her ear._

 _"Hey, Logan, man why are you lurking?" A voice called out, cutting through the night._

 _She wasn't expecting that. Veronica stilled in the task of putting the phone back in her bag. She looked up to see a group of naval officers standing on the curb in front of Basilico, jesting and elbowing one another as they began walking the opposite direction of where she stood._

 _There was one sailor that had yet to move. He stood back in the shadows, but she instinctively knew that it was Logan. Her eyes locked on his and her breath shuddered to a stop in her throat. He wasn't very far from her, only thirty feet at the most. Her immediate inclination was to run to him. To wrap her arms about his neck and pull him into her. She ached suddenly, unexpectedly, to feel his arms around her. She felt the familiar tug in the pit of her stomach that she had long associated with only Logan and thoughts of him._

 _It was all Veronica could do to not act on her impulse. Instead, she blinked and looked away, breaking the spell he'd always put on her. She took one step back, and then another. And then she'd turned straight around and gone back around the corner of the building and away from him, away from her past._

 _It took her almost an entire block to admit that she'd been wishing the whole time that Logan would do the romantic thing and follow her._

 _But he hadn't. And that was that. The end. Veronica left the take-out at Basilico and when she returned to the office, she was unable to find the missing file. Not a good beginning with the illustrious Sheila Limquist._

 _***END FLASHBACK****_

Veronica forcibly extricated herself from the memory of that night. That was the last time she'd seen Logan but it wasn't the last time she'd allowed him into her thoughts or dreams. His memory, his smile, and his laugh had invaded her loneliness over the years. She'd never admitted to anyone how many times she'd picked up the phone and punched in his old number. She would just stare at the numbers illuminated on the screen and her fingers would hover over the send button, indecisive. She'd never called him. Not even while drunk.

For her that was a victory.

Poor, poor Logan though. Everywhere he turned there was more tragedy. That had been the chief reason that she'd left Neptune and nine years ago. The reason she'd left him. He was so self-destructive and it had scared Veronica to think that she was contributing to his behavior.

When she'd left, she had done it to set Logan free.

But it looked as if setting Logan free hadn't kept him from heartache.

* * *

Veronica's phone began ringing just as she put her key into her apartment door. Her arms were full of groceries and she was struggling with the bags. "Just a minute!" she muttered. She pushed the door open and cringed when all of the bags dumped to the ground. There were eggs in one of the sacks. Probably useless now.

She fished her phone out from her pocket. It was her dad. She pressed 'answer.' "Hi, Dad."

"Oh, I'm glad I caught you. You busy?"

Veronica looked down at the groceries spilling out of the sacks on the floor. "Possibly." She sighed off-handedly, nudging one of the bags with her foot to move it enough so that she could shut the door. She turned her attention back to the call. "What's going on?"

"Oh, well, if you're busy, then I don't need to keep you. I just wanted to catch up quick, and tell you a little about my week."

"I just now walked in the door, actually. I really am not busy at all. What's up, Dad?"

"Well, one thing: you got your ten year reunion reminder today from Neptune High."

Oh. "Are you opening my mail again? You know that's a federal offense." Veronica bent down, picked up one of the bags and began rifling through it. "And as a licensed PI you should know these things."

"As an accomplished PI I can deduce what an invitation to your reunion looks like. And no, I did not open your mail. I may have, however, talked to an alumnus this afternoon and he may have mentioned it."

"Oh I see," Veronica sighed. "Did you tell Wallace that until Hell actually freezes completely over twice, no strike that, three times, that I will not be in attendance?"

"Who said it was Wallace?"

"Who else could it have been?" Veronica retorted, setting the bag on the counter. She began unpacking it. "You can pretend that you and Wallace aren't BFFs, but I know better."

"Sure you do." Keith was quiet for a moment. "You sure you don't want to come home? I won't be able to get out to New York for a while. I have a couple of big cases that I am working on; they're going to take some time."

"Ooh, do tell. I want all the juicy gossip. Which is it, sordid love affair gone awry or embezzling scam?" She began sifting through the contents of a bag.

"No, neither of those. Just…you know the usual…" Keith paused. "Someone asked me to double-check the facts of a loved one's cause of death. I think I'm just about finished with it. Plus there's another possible case-"

"Check the cause of death? Like…" Veronica interrupted, placing the milk in the fridge. "What, did someone supposedly die of 'natural causes' and your client thinks they were murdered?"

"Something like that," Keith answered evasively. "I can't really talk about it, honey. You know that. But the point is I can't come to you this time. You're gonna have to come here."

"Dad." Veronica shut the fridge and leaned against it. "You know my reasons for not coming home. I don't want to. Maybe we could meet in the middle? Tell that alumnus you talked to today to come along." When Keith said nothing, she continued, "Or we'll just have to wait it out. I couldn't come if I wanted to anyway; I'm waiting on a return call regarding that job I told you about. At Truman-Mann. The interview went so went so well, Dad. I think that I should hear something soon!" She said the last bit with a tiny squeal.

"That's exactly what I've been waiting to hear, sweetie. That's as good an excuse as any." Keith sounded relieved. "Once you're the big-shot lawyer, you'll be taking private jets to all your destinations. You can bring dear old Dad in your carry-on."

Veronica laughed. "You can be my plus-one anytime, but they do have size restrictions on the only planes I can afford to ride in right now. You'd have to fit into the overhead bin."

* * *

The shrill sound of the phone woke Veronica from a deep sleep. Groggily, she looked over to the clock on the nightstand. 1:36 am. Late night calls were never good news. Something was wrong.

She sat up and reached for her phone, trying to wake more fully. The bright screen in the darkness blinded her momentarily. It took a second for her to read it: Mac.

Why would Mac be calling her right now?

Feeling a sense of foreboding, Veronica swiped the screen and put the phone to her ear. "You in town to go to the MoMa? I think you might be a few hours off though, they won't open until mid-morning."

"Veronica." Mac's calm voice chilled her.

Veronica felt trepidation engulf her. Reflexively she continued chattering, "No to the MoMa? I know you aren't waiting for one of New York City's famous 'dirty water' hot dogs."

"Veronica. You need to listen. Are you listening?" Mac cut in. "I have news and you have to listen."

Blood was pounding in her ears. Pressure built behind her eyes. "So you aren't here, huh? I have to admit I'm a little disappointed. I was hoping you were at the steps waiting to be let in."

Mac ignored her. "It's your dad, V. He's been in some sort of accident. I don't know any of the details. And…they won't let anyone in to see him, but…it's bad. You need to get here."

The bottom crashed out from under her. When she finally responded, her voice was hollow. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Listen, V, we'll take care of the flight from here. Just pack a bag and get to La Guardia. Don't worry about any of the travel arrangements."

* * *

 **And thus it begins. Thank you to Bondopoulos for the Betaing help and everything in between.**

 **Please read and review, it super helps to know if you are enjoying it or not.  
**


	2. Chapter 2: Return

**A/N: Wow! So thank you for the reviews, follows, and favorites! I really appreciate it and it helps so much to keep me excited to post. I'm flattered by the interest and excitement. Thank you! PS Thanks Bondopoulos for everything, oh, and also your betaing skills (but that's just a given, you know. I'll always be thankful for that.)  
**

 **RATING: T++ for slight sexuality**

Mac's expression when she walked through the sliding glass door nearly broke him. He could tell that she'd spoken to Veronica. Mac looked exactly how Logan felt, shell-shocked. Raw and emotional.

Mac had raided an all-night diner and brought enough food and coffee to feed an army. Unable to leave, they sat huddled together in the waiting room waiting. There were no attempts at conversation; they merely sat in companionable, shocked silence.

After thirty or so minutes of not saying anything, Mac's phone vibrated. She looked down at it. "She's on her way."

He nodded his acknowledgement, but kept his eyes on his hands.

Finally, Mac gave him a long look. "You didn't have to pay for her ticket, Logan. She can afford to come to her dad's side. She'll insist on paying you back."

Logan flicked a hand dismissing Mac's comment. "It doesn't matter. One less thing for her to worry about."

Mac was silent for a beat before she changed the subject. "What are you doing here, Logan?"

He chewed the inside of his lip, thinking. He swallowed. "I couldn't just leave him."

Mac guffawed and rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant. What were you doing with Keith Mars, of all people?"

"I really don't want to get into it, Mac."

She crossed her arms and gave him a hard stare. "He's the PI who figured it out, isn't he?"

Logan bit his lip, debating whether to admit it. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket. "It hit the news, huh?"

The sympathetic look she gave him twisted his heart. "Yeah. It was the lead story on TMZ tonight. I'm not one to surprise easily, but I have to say, Logan, I can't believe what really happened. I'm so sorry. I know…" she trailed off, her eyes roaming the room in thought. "You loved her. And Gia and Stu were your friends." She met his gaze. "People suck."

He choked back a laugh. "You got that right." They stared at one another until the swoosh of the sliding glass doors caused Logan to break eye contact. He turned to watch a doctor in blue scrubs stroll towards them.

"Mr. Echolls?" The doctor asked, extending a hand to him. Logan shook it. "I've just spoken with the nurse. Has Keith Mars' daughter been contacted?"

"Uh.." Logan looked over at Mac, who nodded. "Yeah, we called her. She's on her way. But she's travelling from New York; it's going to take some time. And that's his only family…at least the only family that we're aware of."

The doctor seemed to process that before nodding slowly. "Mr. Mars is in critical condition. He won't be able to be moved for quite some time. Until then I'm afraid that not even his daughter will be allowed in to see him."

Logan's heart sank at the doctor's words. Veronica wouldn't settle for that if he knew her at all. Which, come to think of it, he didn't any more. He cocked his head to the side and stared at the doctor intently. "But he'll live?"

The doctor fidgeted with the waistband of his scrubs. "I can't share direct health information with a non-family member. Privacy issues."

"That's not what I'm asking," Logan prompted with frustration. "Mr. Mars and I go back years. He's like a father to me." He felt Mac's stare burning into him but he chose to ignore it. "Whatever information you can give us would be more than appreciated. Veronica will be on a plane and unreachable for the whole of the morning and possibly into the afternoon. We just want to know where things stand here. "

The doctor appeared to contemplate that for a moment. Logan could see the muscles of the man's face working as he thought it over. Apparently coming to a conclusion, the physician suddenly nodded. "I understand. I will say that I am confident that Mr. Mars will live. But it will be a long, slow recovery. You'll need to prepare his daughter for that. He will need supervision of some kind for weeks, maybe even months. There are options available-a rehabilitation center or a live-in nurse. I don't yet know what the best course will be. But he won't be walking out of here any time soon."

As the doctor turned to head out of the waiting room but Logan had a sudden thought and spoke up, "Doctor? What about the other man in the car with Mr. Mars? Did he live?"

"Deputy Sacks?" The doctor asked, swiveling back around on the balls of his feet. "I'm afraid he was pronounced dead on arrival." With that, the doctor spun around and left the two of them staring stunned after him.

"Deputy Sacks was in that car?" Mac asked rhetorically, her voice dull.

"No," Logan answered, suddenly more worried than ever. "Deputy Sacks was driving that car."

**Break***

Veronica stepped out of the cab and onto the brightly lit street. The California sun was beating down gloriously without a cloud in the sky but she took no time to enjoy it. Instead, she hoisted her leather computer bag further up onto her shoulder and waited for the cabbie to unearth her carry-on from within his trunk.

Once the luggage was out she tipped the man and made her way to the entrance of Neptune Memorial. She had arranged to meet Mac there so that Veronica could consult with the doctors regarding her dad's prognosis. Mac would then take Veronica to Mac's apartment.

Butterflies, and not the good kind, fluttered wildly in her stomach. It felt more like a swarm of moths or bees were warring inside of her. Veronica squelched the desire to puke on the vestibule's shiny tile and forced one foot in front of the other as she made her way to the information booth. The volunteer on duty directed her to the ICU on the fifth floor. Once on the elevator, Veronica found herself fighting off the overwhelming threat of tears that were burning her eyelids. Rallying, she punched the button marked with a 'five' and headed to whatever fate awaited her.

Breathe in and breathe out, Veronica. Just breathe.

She'd left New York with barely any thought except that she had to get to Neptune immediately. As soon as she'd hung the phone up with Mac, Veronica began the furious dash of packing and running out the door in search of a taxi.

Mac had bought her a first class ticket. Veronica had picked the ticket up at the check-in counter and easily bypassed security without any issues. She was going to owe her life to Mac for getting the ticket so quickly. Veronica decided that it paid to know a hacker.

The elevator pinged and opened, bringing Veronica's attention back to the present and what she was about to face. A sign near the elevator indicated the waiting room was beyond a set of double-glass doors. Veronica could see Mac sitting just on the other side of them reading a book. Veronica didn't think that she'd ever been happier to see her friend in her entire life.

The doors slid open and Veronica rushed in. Mac noticed her at once and she stood up, the book on her lap clattering loudly to the floor. "They won't let anyone in yet to see him. The doctor said a few days," she warned.

With that news Veronica felt herself crumple. Traveling with limited knowledge of what had happened made her weak with exhaustion. She dropped the handle of her suitcase and it toppled over onto her foot, her computer bag's strap slipped down off her shoulder. It was too much. Tears sprang to her eyes and she began to sob.

The words struggled to form, but somehow she was able to gasp out, "Just please tell me he's going to live." Mac pulled her into an embrace, giving Veronica the dignity to grieve without having to school her features. Veronica took advantage of the warmth and melted into her friend, burying her head into Mac's shoulder. "What on earth happened? I feel like I just talked to him. He has to live, Mac!"

She composed herself and pulled away. Veronica wiped her eyes with her fingers and laughed. "Sorry. Sorry. I've just been having all these scenarios," she gestured wildly about her head, "They've been going round and round in my head and I can't rid of them. Being on a plane and traveling alone only made it worse."

"You're entitled to wild scenarios," Mac answered, leading Veronica to a stiff waiting room chair. "Well, I don't know much, but the doctor did relent enough to tell us that he's confident Keith will live. He's just severely injured."

"Us?" Veronica echoed as she settled in and looked around. "Where is Wallace anyway? I thought he would be here." Veronica didn't notice the awkward flash of uncertainty cross Mac's face. "How did you find out about this? What happened? _When_ did it happen?"

"It's all very confusing. All I know for sure is that your dad was with Deputy Sacks. It was a hit and run…multiple hits, actually. Witnesses say that the truck involved doubled back and struck Sacks' car a second time before fleeing the scene," Mac answered carefully.

"Doubled back?" Veronica repeated. "What?"

"Someone took a hit out on Sacks, I think. Veronica…he's dead."

The migraine that had been threatening all day blinded Veronica all at once. The throbbing pain in her temple radiated to her forehead. She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Dad said something being busy with a possible case." She eyed Mac. "Do you think Sacks came to him about the corruption in the Sheriff's office?"

Mac sighed. "When is it ever not about the Neptune's illustrious police force?"

"Has there been an investigation at all? Has anyone been up here to talk to you?"

"No…not that I'm aware of." Mac shook her head deliberately. "I really don't think anyone's talked to the witnesses either."

Veronica blinked. She sat back against the hard back of the chair. "Then I will. No one messes with a Mars and gets away with it."

**Break***

The beach house was still and quiet when Logan walked through the door. He and Mac had counted down the hours and then the minutes before Veronica arrived to the hospital. Within ten minutes of her expected arrival Logan got into a taxi and left after he'd made Mac swear to keep his involvement quiet for as long as possible. He knew that once Veronica knew that he was involved it would be just one more thing for her to worry about. Realistically, it would only be a matter of time before she figured out that it had been he who had saved Keith from that vehicle, but he didn't want to burden her too soon with the knowledge of it.

So with that reasoning, Logan swept into the taxicab with only moments to spare. As the cab zoomed off, Logan looked back and he saw Veronica stepping out of a taxi. She looked as beat up as he felt. But even from a distance he could see determination radiating from her. Everything in him wanted to stop his driver so that he could jump out and take her into his arms to hold her. But he'd fought the urge, knowing she would never be receptive to him or anything he had to say. Decisively, he turned back in the seat and directed the driver to Dick's house.

Logan was exhausted. Sleeping in hard plastic chairs had never been comfortable, but had lost its charm after he'd graduated high school. His back was killing him and he had a crick in his neck. That added to the stress and adrenaline of the previous night left little doubt in Logan's mind as to why he felt so drained. Exhaustion was about to overtake him. As soon as he walked into the house, Logan quietly made his way to the living room. It was late and he was tired of fighting sleep. Logan sat on the couch, leaned back, and was out.

**Break***

The doctors told her to go home and rest. Rushing across the country only to be told to go home made Veronica want to scream in frustration. The staff wouldn't even allow her see Keith through a window, which she thought was all sorts of unfair.

Mac drove Veronica to Keith's house. Veronica needed to get keys to her dad's car so that Mac wouldn't have to chauffeur Veronica everywhere. Not only did Mac need her own set of wheels, but it made more sense for Veronica to drive her dad's car. Mac's schedules would conflict with hers for sure. Veronica would be camped out at the hospital most of the time or out running errands; Mac needed to work.

Veronica had only visited her dad a few times since he'd 'moved on up' in the world, as he phrased it. She still wasn't used to the pristine yards or the well-lit street. Tonight, the street was quiet and showed no signs of the drama that had played out just over twenty-four hours earlier. Veronica remembered the day he'd moved in and how proud he'd been. It bothered her that the seedy under-belly of Neptune had followed her dad home. It bothered her that she'd been half a world away while he fought for his life. It bothered her that obviously there was still a war waging in Neptune and that Keith, as always, was the lone crusader. It bothered her most that she wasn't here, helping her dad with his mission.

Veronica wondered if any amount of time would change that feeling within her.

Mac pulled to a stop in front of the little bungalow before putting the car in park. She turned to look at Veronica. "You can stay at my place like we planned. Only if you want to, of course. No pressure, but you can follow me there now."

"No." Veronica shook her head. She really needed to process the whole day without an audience. "I think I'll just crash here for the night. I can decide what to do in the morning. I need to sort through of Dad's insurance information and paperwork. It'll be fine, Mac."

Mac looked dubious. "I can pack a bag and come back?"

Veronica gave her a look. "No. Definitely not. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, really, but you've done enough already. Staying all day at the hospital while I couldn't be there, not many people would do that. There aren't words to express how much that means to me. I owe you and Wallace." She pulled on the door latch. "Besides, you shouldn't take off more work than you have to. Speaking of which, I guess I ought to call Truman-Mann to tell them I can't take the job."

"I am so sorry, V. I can't even tell you," Mac started.

"Don't be." Veronica interrupted her. "I'm used to Murphy's Law meddling with my best laid plans. But I can't promise to take a position in New York next week when the doctors are telling me that the next month of my life will be spent rehabilitating my dad."

"There are facilities, Veronica. And live-in nurses."

Veronica laughed sardonically and looked over at Mac with a grimace. "You and I both live in the real world. How will he afford that kind of care? I'd be more cost effective as a Walmart Greeter while he sleeps and nurse him back to health myself than hire someone. I'd make more money to pay the bills that way."

"Sorry to break it to you, but you won't qualify as Greeter. Besides requiring a general lack of disdain for humanity, those Greeters are eighty-plus years old."

"Not helping." Veronica smiled weakly. "You get the idea. I need to sit down and figure this out. I can't have the weight of some unattainable position keep me from making the best choice for my dad. I'll just tell them that I can't take the job." She got out, slammed the door and then leaned into the open window to look at Mac. "Thanks for everything. We need to sort out the plane ticket."

Guilt flashed across Mac's face and she shrugged quickly. "It's taken care of. Just…consider it an early birthday present. For the rest of your life. Don't worry about it." Her fingers clenched the steering wheel.

Veronica looked at her strangely. "You must have gotten your promotion at Sun Corp, huh? Go you!"

Mac looked even more uncomfortable. "Actually, I just switched companies. Sun is no longer shining in my life."

Now it was Veronica's turn to look guilty. "We need to catch up, Mac. I feel like I don't even know you. Maybe we can catch dinner tomorrow night, after I sort some of this out. Somewhere close to the hospital, perhaps. Would you be available?"

"For you, V, I am available anytime. Text me; we'll make it happen."

**Break**

There was a hide-a-key in the little rock that sat in the small flower pot on her dad's back porch. Veronica let herself in through the back door with it that lead to the kitchen. She had never given herself time to let this house feel like home. It felt even emptier tonight without Keith's presence.

Dishes were piled in the sink and a dried out loaf of French bread sat on the island next to a serrated knife. It looked as though her dad had been in the middle of preparing dinner when he'd been summoned to Sack's little car. Peculiar, Veronica thought. But it wasn't entirely out of character for Keith to be called away unexpectedly, especially for a case.

The rest of the kitchen was in a similar state of disarray. A pot of cold coffee sat on the counter top and the light was still on in the little pantry. There was an open folder on the table; its contents spilling out from within it. Keith's laptop was open but powered off.

Veronica set her bags down by the island and strode over to the table. She could see Keith's planner peeking out from underneath another file. Pushing the papers aside, Veronica picked the planner up and skimmed through it. Leave it to Keith to still use a paper day planner. She ran her finger along the days, stopping at his schedule for the previous day. He hadn't penciled much in, but at eight o'clock last night he'd written the letter 'L' and circled it.

L.

So…who was L?

She set the planner aside and opened the file full of papers. There was no label on the tab, but inside she found various media clippings regarding Bonnie DeVille's death. Veronica's eyes bounced back to the 'L' before she refocused on the folder, flipping through more of its contents.

Further into the file, Veronica found a sheet of legal notebook paper in Keith's handwriting. Her eyes eagerly skimmed her father's notes on the case. It appeared that he had created timeline of the last day of Carrie's life. There were various comments regarding police logs and witness statements.

The very last page in the file held the bombshell. Her dad had solved the case. Carrie Bishop aka Bonnie DeVille hadn't committed suicide after all. Her own friends had killed her.

A gasp escaped from her lips. Dawning realization twisted in her stomach like a knife. When she'd asked about his caseload, Keith had said _: 'Someone asked me to double-check the facts of a loved one's cause of death.'_

 _'L'…_

Her mind flashed to the picture she'd burned into memory from within the pages of _Entertainment Weekly._

 _***Break***_

"Hey, Logan! That girl who follows you around is here!"

 _Ah, shit._ Logan jerked straight up from his lying position on the couch. He pressed a hand against his forehead, suddenly feeling nauseous. Blurrily, he attempted to compose himself. Despite the fact that he hadn't drunk on drop, Logan felt like he had a hangover; the symptoms were the same. _Here we go._

He stood up, brushed the lint off his jeans, pulled his shirt down and squared his shoulders. It was time to face the firing squad.

Wordlessly he watched as Veronica Mars strolled purposely down the hallway, her eyes fixed on him. He noted that the determined set of her jaw was the same as it always had been, as well as the steely resolve in her posture. Warily, Logan waited. Though he kept his face impassive, his heart beat wildly at the sight of her, _here_ , coming to talk to him. This was the moment Veronica Mars walked back into his life, and he hadn't realized until that very second how much he'd wanted it to happen. Even though he knew she was probably only here to yell at him. Or accuse him. _Take your pick, Echolls. You're always guilty of something in her book._

Entering the living room, Veronica came to a stop about three feet in front of him. He kept his eyes locked on hers as dryly remarked, "That didn't take you very long."

A slight smile formed on her lips. She clasped her hands in front of her and bounced on her heels, looking awkward. "I just dropped by to say thank you."

He blinked. "Come again?"

Veronica's eyes filled with tears. "I don't need to know why you were there, and I really don't need to know, but thank you."

His defenses fell down. Her reaction was completely the opposite of what he'd expected. "I just reacted. There's nothing to thank me for."

"Since when have you ever been humble?" Veronica asked, smiling softly. She gestured around, changing the subject abruptly when she remarked, "You've sure done well for yourself."

Logan shrugged, his features schooled. "This is Dick's place. I'm just crashing."

"Aah, I should have known. Well, your boyfriend has done well."

Logan let the quip slide. He only allowed himself to give her a slightly exasperated look. "Dick runs his own business now. He's doing well at it. As for me, I have a place near base in San Diego." He added the last part just to see her reaction.

It shut her up. Logan watched her swallow and press her lips tightly together. He could tell that she was thinking of that night, so many years ago, when she'd seen him on that random street in New York. When he'd been in uniform. He could tell with certainty that Veronica knew he was in the Navy and that she'd known it for a while. If that hadn't been the case, she would have reacted differently, probably by pumping him for information.

"Well…I'm glad for you." Slowly, deliberately, Veronica turned around and started back down the hallway. _So that was it then. A quick thank you and then a 'see ya in another ten years'._

Logan hesitated before saying, "Veronica?"

She stopped.

Logan shut his eyes. Breathed out. Breathed in. Opened his eyes. "You're welcome. But I didn't do it to be thanked." He ached to reach out to hold her. She looked so good, if a bit haggard. He would have done anything to be able to comfort her in this time of need.

Veronica didn't turn around. She stood still for a moment longer before she slowly jerked her head up and down in silent answer. She then continued making her way to the door. He stared after her for a long time after she'd disappeared.

**Break***

Inside the car, Veronica sat gazing out the window at the beach house. She ignored the exclusively shrill ring of her phone that told her it was Truman-Mann calling. Nothing the firm had to say interested her enough to answer their call right now. She couldn't take her eyes from the glass door through which she could see both Dick and Logan going about their daily business.

Once she'd put the pieces together, Veronica had known she needed to thank Logan personally for saving her father's life. There wasn't time for her to tip-toe around Neptune in the hopes of never running into him. Every time she'd ever come for a visit that was exactly what she'd done, but there would be no getting around it now. So when she'd woken up this morning, she'd called the hospital first, to check on Keith's status, and then had driven to the address that Keith had listed as Logan's address.

When Dick swung the door open, Veronica had been stunned to see the blonde-haired imbecile grinning goofily down at her. She hadn't been expecting him. He'd looked momentarily stunned for a moment as well, but then had recovered remarkably with a snide comment about how he'd ordered a short brunette, not a feisty blond.

It had taken Dick only a second before he'd called out to Logan and pointed her in the direction of the living room. Too late to turn tail and run, Veronica had headed down the hallway to find Logan rousing himself from what looked like a rather uncomfortable night sleeping on a couch that was much too short for his tall frame.

Even though Logan's clothes had been rumpled they were obviously of high quality and he wore them well. He'd roll the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows and his jeans hung just right on his hips and Veronica was annoyed that she'd let herself notice.

The air in the car was stifling and Veronica couldn't breathe; she felt too hot. Going for a stroll along the beach sounded soothing and an effective way to clear her mind of all thought for a little while until she could head to the hospital once it was visiting hours. Not wanting to sit there any longer, Veronica got out of the car and walked over to the public access to the beach.

The breeze felt wonderful on her skin as it whipped her hair into her face. It had been years since she'd walked down the beach, years since she'd felt sand between her toes. Aimlessly, she wandered, first to the water's edge and then back towards where the long grass met the sand line.

When she'd called the hospital first thing this morning, the news had been positive but not what she wanted to hear. Keith still didn't have clearance to have visitors and there was no indication when that might happen. Disappointed with that news, Veronica made the ICU nurse promise to call if there was any change at all.

She couldn't visit her dad. Wallace and Mac were at work. There was nowhere she had to be. With that in mind, Veronica found a semi-secluded spot near some brush and boulders to sit down by. After a while, she laid back, first pulling her jacket off and bunching it under her head as a headrest and watched the clouds roll by.

***Break***

"Dude, what the hell was Veronica Mars doing at our door after ten long damn years?" Dick asked as he and Logan headed toward the ocean with their surfboards. "Did she finally come crawling back to you after a decade of running? Your prayers have been answered!"

"Dude, shut up. She had her reasons. And it's been _nine_ years."

"Same dif. What possible reason could Veronica Mars have to talk to you?" Dick pressed, taking a moment to zip up the last few inches of his wet suit.

Logan hadn't told Dick anything about hiring Keith Mars or of the accident. Dick, like the rest of Neptune, was under the impression that the sheriff's department had solved Carrie's murder. Not wanting delve into it all, Logan answered evasively, "She just came to offer condolences."

Dick grunted, clearly not buying it.

Logan didn't really care what Dick thought, so he said nothing more. Instead, he focused on the water and the weather. The sun was high in the sky, the waves were rolling, and it was the perfect combination for excellent surfing. Logan looked forward to the ride, to clear his mind. Surfing was cathartic to him; it always had been. Today was no exception. Together, the two friends jogged into the ocean as far as the water would allow and then hopped onto their surfboards and paddled out the rest of the way.

***Break***

She heard them before she saw them.

The warm air had made her doze but the voices were like bees in her ear. Veronica propped herself up and squinted across the horizon to see two men surfing. Their voices carried across the water in the breeze and she knew immediately that it was Dick and Logan. She watched for a moment, reflecting.

It had always been pleasurable to watch Logan surf. It was if he became one with the board and water, riding the wave out expertly even at a young age. Back when they'd dated, Veronica used to bring picnic lunches to the beach and watch him. After he'd surfed the morning away, they'd sit together, just enjoying each others company.

He'd tried to teach her how to surf once. She must have fallen off a million times, but Logan had been so patient with her that she'd kept at it for quite a while. Finally, though, he'd realized that she'd had enough and took her back to shore. She'd repaid him by finding a secluded spot further down the beach.

*** _FLASHBACK_ ***

 _Veronica took off running, knowing that Logan would run after her. She could hear his labored breathing behind her, and she threw a grin back at him, her hair whipping about her face. Logan's returned grin made her run even faster, up across the boulders that led to a dark cave they'd discovered years before, with Duncan and Lilly._

 _She was still in her wetsuit, so while she waited for Logan to climb up after her, she unzipped and peeled it off of her warmed body. She was still struggling to free of her legs when Logan reached her, huffing from the exertion._

 _"We can find better places, you know."_

 _She looked up at him while still bent over. "But what kind of memory would that be?" Veronica teased. Finally succeeding in detangling herself, she stood up straight. "I mean, now, we'll always associate me learning and failing to surf with a lovely tryst in a cold dark cavern where you warmed this cold, cold heart of mine." Logan's eyes dilated from the sight of her small breasts pushed up in a halter-styled bikini top. His response made Veronica glad she'd spent the extra money on it. She used the effect she had on him to advantage by cocking her head to the side and crooking her finger at him seductively. "I'd settle for just a body warm-up, how about you?"_

 _"How about I do both?" He growled, pulling her into him. His hands skimmed her back and she arched into him, relishing the heat that his touch immediately evoked. Her fingers dug into his shoulder blades when his lips left hers to skim down her neck and plunge into the V of her breasts._

 _Her breath came out in choppy bursts when his mouth found a nipple and she lost all comprehension. His fingers found the other nipple and began feathering ever so slightly in the same rhythm as his tongue. He pulled away from her to give her a devilish grin, his brown orbs like fire in the darkness. She wondered if he saw the same heat reflected in her own eyes._

 _He captured her mouth again with his and she was gone, lost by his touch, happy to be in his arms._

 _***END FLASHBACK***_

Veronica blinked the memory away. It had been a while since she'd let herself think of that day. The flush of her body made her wish that she'd never insisted adding that particular excursion to the day she'd attempted surfing. As tempting the memory it was to remember it wasn't useful in keeping detached from the past. Right now, she needed to focus on her dad and getting him the care he needed, not on a rock hard body and a pair of smoldering brown eyes.

Being pretty well hidden from view, Veronica watched the two riders. As much as she wanted to look away, it was impossible. Her eyes were drawn to surfers. The two were expertly riding, bending and twisting just so, easily staying on their boards. It was easy to discern which form was whose. Dick's shock of blond hair stuck out above his wet suit. The years had thickened Dick out a little, but to Veronica he would always be a scrawny frat boy. The form on the other board, however, was as familiar as he was a stranger. Logan was nowhere near the boy he once was.

His body was more muscular and lean than she remembered. His posture was straighter, evidence of his years in the Navy. She had noted when she stood in front of him how short he kept his hair now; the lines of his face more rugged. Some men just got more attractive with age and Logan was definitely one of them. She'd had to force herself not to get lost in his brown eyes. There had always been something magnetic when he'd looked at her, and nine years hadn't diminished the pull. She'd had to push her feet firmly into her shoes to keep herself from jumping into his arms.

She was sure he wouldn't have welcomed that. She'd left him. Technically, they hadn't even been together when she'd moved away, but that seemed like semantics now. They'd each broken the other's hearts more than once. After all this time Logan probably hated her.

Actually, he'd looked wary of her. He'd seemed distant and not very glad to see her. Not the way someone would look who wanted to reconcile or even be friends again. It wasn't as if she wanted to reconcile, per se, but friendliness would have been welcome.

Plus he was mourning Carrie. Or Bonnie. Whatever the hell name she'd used, Bonnie/Carrie had been Logan's girlfriend for years now. The two of them had been involved for much longer than Veronica and Logan had officially even been together. When they were younger, grief always seemed to put Logan on a different playing field than during less emotional times. Right now Logan was in the throes of grief and Veronica had to stay away from him.

For that matter, Veronica was also in the throes of grief herself. If she allowed herself to think too much about his chocolate-brown eyes, she had to remember that she was weak and had to be strong. _Yes_ , she thought, feeling better about the situation, _this is_ _just grief that's making me nostalgic for Logan and the way things used to be_.

She didn't really need anything from Logan. She was merely feeling lonely and the idea of Logan brought comfort and familiarity. Yes. That's what this was. Familiarity.

Determined to not get carried away by pointless emotion, Veronica stood up and brushed the sand from her jeans. _Time to get out of here_. Logan and Dick had just reached the shoreline and were bantering back and forth like the good friends they were. Veronica waited for the two of them to head back out into the ocean before gathering her things and left. She didn't look back.

 **A/N: thanks for reading! If you have a moment, please leave a review and let me know how you liked it! Thanks again for taking the time to read this! FYI this will likely be a 20+ chapter thing. I am trying hard to keep up with a weekly posting schedule. I hope you all stick with me and stick with where this is going.  
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	3. Chapter 3 Diving Back In

**A/N: Thank you all for your interest in this story, thank you for the reviews, favorites, and follows. For those of you that I didn't personally get back to via message, thank you very much for leaving your thoughts. I really appreciate every one of your comments and hope you continue to enjoy this story.  
**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

 **Rating: T++ for an F* bombs**

Chapter 3 Diving Back In

Veronica found herself at Mars Investigations. It had taken her a little while to find the office because she'd never been to the new location. Parking on the street out front, Veronica pulled out her father's office key before looking through the windshield at the building. There was nothing spectacular about it, she noted as she climbed out of the car. She let herself in through the front entrance and made her way up to the third floor.

The damp smell of mold assaulted her nostrils when she opened MI's door. The space felt dirty and dingy, but she took no time to reflect about it as she headed straight to the inner office to Keith's desk. She immediately began rifling through the drawers and papers that were within.

There were no notes written anywhere regarding a possible connection between Keith and Deputy Sacks. She didn't find anything in her dad's files that contained even a hint of a reason for them to meet. Veronica sat back against the leather of the office chair, deep in thought. Her eyes roamed the room until they lit on the safe in a back corner.

Blowing out a long breath, Veronica pushed the chair away from the desk and stood up. She sauntered over to the safe and crouched down to inspect it. If she could figure out the combination she'd be golden. The safe was where her dad had always put his most important case files. Veronica thought it was fair to assume that her dad wouldn't have taken the file home last night, because he wasn't planning on meeting Sacks. Carrie's file was on Keith's kitchen table, confirming the fact that he had planned on meeting Logan. There had been no other files that she'd found. It stood to reason Sacks had called unexpectedly. Any information regarding Sacks' case was most likely inside the safe.

She twirled the dial. Keith's rule that all combinations be random was great for keeping skilled bad guys out, but not so great when his lawyer daughter needed access. Although Veronica knew that it was futile, she tried his birthday. She tried her birthday. She tried her parents wedding date and was relieved when that combination of numbers didn't work.

She tried various combinations for over twenty minutes. Nothing worked and she was out of ideas. Damn her dad's thoroughness.

The information on Keith's laptop was just as elusive. She'd already tried to crack its password the night before, but quickly had given up. She'd been exhausted and knew that her dad had top-notch encryption on his computer. It wouldn't be easy for her to gain access.

It was time to bring in the big dogs. She pulled out her phone and dialed. The phone rang a few times before Mac finally answered.

"'Lo?"

"Hey, Mac. How about that dinner?"

***Break**

The house was his for the afternoon. While Logan appreciated the quietness, he didn't like how the silence made his mind spin in circles. He couldn't get Veronica out of his head.

Speaking to Veronica, and watching her leave as quickly as she'd come, had taken its toll. His body had required an outlet. Surfing had been liberating; it had taken time out of reality. Surfing released a lot of that built up stress, and it kept his mind busy. He'd been able to forget all about the vulnerability he'd seen in her eyes and how small she'd looked.

But now that Logan was alone, all he could see was her face when he closed his eyes. Having Veronica show up this morning had brought with it a flood of memories of their time together. Days when she used to meet him at the beach with a basket full of food. She'd watch him while he surfed. They would talk. They would make out.

He'd been able to touch her back then.

He really needed to get her off of his mind. Wishing for her to look at him the way she used to was not healthy. Recalling her laugh and the spark in her eyes when they'd argue, or how they'd light up when he was about to kiss her…

 _Snap out of it,_ Logan berated himself. He'd seen her for a total of ten minutes at most. What the hell was his problem?

But Logan knew what his problem was; he'd been on a freakin' aircraft carrier for that past three months. While he was deployed there was no option whatsoever of getting laid. His problem was that he hadn't had a girlfriend or sex in….well, it was embarrassing to even admit how long. Carrie didn't count. She was different.

Seeing Veronica today was stirring up senseless emotions and awareness that he'd tamped down long ago. But was it really senseless if it was those memories that had kept him going for nine years? Logan was ashamed to realize that, despite his best efforts, he didn't really have those feelings locked away like he'd thought he had. They were still right on the surface, present as ever.

Disgusted with himself, he decided to quit thinking about her altogether. Logan showered and changed into his running clothes. Running would clear his mind and release more tension. He laced up his shoes and headed out.

Logan set off from Dick's back porch and ran down the beach at a heady pace. He ran and he ran without any destination in mind or attention of time or distance. When he'd first joined the Navy, Logan had learned to tolerate running. Now, after years of running every day, he'd even become slightly addicted to it. The solitude running afforded him was something that he'd never realized he needed. It was therapeutic. There was something about it, the placing of one foot in front of the other, the keeping a steady pattern of breathing, and the concentration of the sport, that calmed him. Now running kept him from thinking about anything except running.

***Break***

The little restaurant was bustling with activity when Veronica arrived. She stepped in and immediately spotted Mac sitting at a table by the window. Grateful that Mac was able to just drop whatever it was that she'd been doing to meet her, Veronica slid into the seat opposite her and sighed. "There's nothing that a good piece of lasagna can't fix."

Mac, who was reading her menu, poked her head over it and grinned, "And maybe a good glass of wine? I ordered some vegetarian Italian Nachos."

"Pretty early to be hittin' the sauce, don't ya think?"

"After the past couple days, I'm thinking wine is some pretty tame sauce," Mac remarked dryly. She squinted as if trying to read Veronica's expression. "How's your dad?"

"The doctors say at least three more days until I can see him. Smuggling in a cannoli is out I'm afraid."

The waiter interrupted them then by setting the large platter of nachos between them.

Veronica eyed the food hungrily. "Let's dig in."

**Break**

It wasn't until they'd done some serious damage to the nachos and each ordered a slice of lasagna that Veronica set her fork down and stared intently at her friend.

Mac immediately set her own utensil down and waited.

"So." Veronica pursed her lips. "I called Wallace."

"Okay."

"He's said he was in San Diego two nights ago for a game."

Mac's expression tightened. She broke their eye contact and stared at her plate. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh. He didn't know anything about Dad or the accident." Veronica waited a beat. "I thought you said that Wallace with you that night." Veronica placed her hands on the table and adjusted the plate in front of her.

"I never actually _said_ that Wallace was there. You assumed he was and I didn't correct you." Mac defended in a small voice. "You never actually asked who was with me."

"Why would you let me think that?" Veronica asked, her voice hitching accusingly. She'd been thinking about this ever since she'd talked to Wallace. "If Wallace wasn't with you, then who was?"

Mac's mumble was indiscernible but Veronica already knew the answer.

She sighed. "Logan stayed with you, didn't he?"

"No." Mac's response was too adamant, too quick. When Veronica raised her eyebrows skeptically, Mac squirmed in discomfort and gave her a reluctant smile, "The truth of the matter is that I stayed with Logan. He left right before you got there."

"He stayed the whole time?" Veronica repeated, stunned. She had figured that Logan had waited for Mac to get there, stayed a few hours at the most, and then left. "He really stayed?"

Mac grimaced slightly. "Well, yeah, he did. He called, _frantic_ , begging me to call you. He didn't want me to tell you that he was there, because…actually, I don't really know why. I guess you'll have to ask him."

Logan's desire for anonymity wasn't something Veronica needed to ask him about. She understood his reasons all too well. But the thought of Logan toiling all night and day with Mac in that waiting room, waiting for news on _her_ dad, did something to Veronica. It twisted and pulled deep inside her gut; her throat closed up with the effort to keep it from unfurling.

The waiter appeared at that very moment with their dinner. He placed the plates down with flourish and gave them each a strange little bow. The awkwardness of his actions broke the seriousness of the moment, and the two of the smirked at each other, glad for the distraction. The waiter silently sauntered off after ensuring that they didn't need anything else.

"So you mentioned last night that you got a different job?" Veronica asked as she forked a bite of lasagna. "By the way, if you can't finish your piece over there, I'd be happy to help."

"Are you kidding?" Mac pulled her plate closer and hunched over it protectively. "Leave me out of your lasagna fixation. That's why I ordered my own _vegetarian_ slice. I wanted to at least _taste_ it, thank you very much."

"Fair enough," Veronica answered, looking forlornly over at Mac's side of the table. "But I really think I would enjoy it more effectively than you will."

"Just because I suppress the urge to moan after every bite doesn't mean I'm not enjoying it just as much as you would," Mac retorted before taking a large bite. She gave an exaggerated moan. "Mmm…yeah, that's good stuff right there."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Veronica pulled them back to the previous conversation. "You didn't answer my question. About your job."

"Oh…that…" Mac answered, not meeting her eye. "You're not going to like that answer either."

"Like it? Why do I have to like it? It's not me that has to sit there from nine to five."

Mac leveled a dirty look at Veronica but still didn't meet her gaze. "It's seven-thirty to three-thirty, thank you very much. You'd like that part at least."

Veronica raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Ooh, out early, huh? Well, you beat the really bad traffic, at least."

Mac ignored the look that Veronica threw her direction. "You know it."

"Mac?" Veronica asked, scrunching her head down in an attempt to look her friend in the eye. "What aren't you telling me?"

***Break***

Kane Software. Mac worked for Kane Software.

Veronica let herself into her dad's house and tiredly dropped her purse onto a small side table.

With the shock of Mac's news, Veronica had forgotten to pull Keith's laptop out during dinner. It wasn't until they were headed to their cars that Veronica remembered to hand it to Mac. Her friend had taken the computer eagerly, with a promise to have it cracked and back to her before work the next morning.

Veronica's head was spinning.

She'd been gone nine years and everything was different. Nothing had stayed the same; everything had evolved and moved forward without her. Somehow Mac had been sucked into the crowd of Kane-cronies. Mac had sold out to the Kane-loving crowd while Veronica had been off conquering the world. But that was only the beginning.

Tired, Veronica made her way to the couch and sat down. She dug the remote out from under her and turned the television on, immediately muting the sound. She wasn't really interested in anything that the television could give her except the company that it offered.

The flash of the television screen flickered on the walls. Veronica tried to empty her mind, but it would not stop reeling.

Deep down in her gut, she knew that what had happened to her dad was the culmination of something big. Sacks had been intentionally targeted. Veronica's spidey-sense was tingling.

It was possible that Logan may have seen something. He'd been there when the accident had happened and he was the only witness that she knew of.

Veronica needed to talk to him, really talk to him, and find out everything he knew. Keith had been working multiple cases; Logan could have seen Sacks in passing or heard something. It was likely that Logan might know something that could clue her in to what was going on.

She didn't want to talk to him.

…did she?

Well she had to, whether she wanted to or not.

***Break***

The buzzing of machines sliced through Logan's skull; a bright beam of light pierced through his closed eyelids from overhead. His hands felt heavy and the burning in his shoulder was as unfamiliar as it was painful.

He was lying down and moving at the same time. His mind was slow to process that realization, but it felt wrong even before the sensation caught up with him. All around him were urgent voices, stage whispers and high-pitched orders assaulted him from every direction at the same time.

Finally yielding to exhaustion and the heaviness, Logan let himself succumb to the temptation of sleep.

***Break***

Veronica sent a text to Mac requesting Logan's number. When the reply came in, Veronica stared at it, surprised that his number was the same as it had been back in college. She chose not to think about how close she had come to dialing that very number many times over the years. She chose not to acknowledge that he would have answered the call each and every time.

Not letting her traitorous mind talk her out of calling this time, Veronica firmly pressed send and put the phone to her ear. She took a deep breath while she counted to ten, waiting for Logan to answer.

Maybe it would go to voicemail.

After the fourth ring the call connected. There was a long pause before a rustling sound came though from the other end, making Veronica wince. After an even longer pause, the phone disconnected.

Confused, Veronica dialed again. Once again, the call connected and there was a long span of silence before she heard what sounded like Dick's muffled yell, "I'll only be a minute!" followed by a panicked, "Can't talk right now, Ronnie. We're at the hospital," into the phone. And then the call disconnected.

Hospital? Dully, Veronica pulled the phone from her ear.

***Break***

She didn't stop to consider how Dick knew who was on the line. Veronica merely grabbed her purse and ran out the door, pulling her jacket on as she went. She peeled out of her father's driveway and drove as fast as she dared through the streets on what was now the familiar route to Neptune General.

Traffic was minimal, which was a blessing for Veronica. Her mind was racing and her hands shook. Not having to weave in and out of traffic made it easier for her to get to the hospital. Earlier Veronica had turned off the radio, and now the silence was deafening. The lack of sound filled the car.

She kept driving.

***Break***

The pain in his head had diminished from a raging fire to a dull ache. Logan opened his eyes slowly; the bright overhead lights caused him to wince. The walls around him were the sterile white of a hospital room.

Alarmed, Logan jerked up, causing a shooting pain to charge across the back of his skull. He quickly fell back against the pillow beneath him. Cautiously, his eyes tracked to where Dick sat, leaning back in a chair, at the foot of the bed that Logan occupied. His friend hadn't yet realized that Logan had awoken.

He began taking stock of his condition. Both of his feet rested beneath a pale blue blanket, all limbs accounted for, he saw with relief. He worked his way from top to bottom, noting that his shoulder was bandaged and that an IV was attached to his wrist.

Had his plane been shot down? He racked his brain trying to remember how he'd gotten himself into his current situation. The last thing he remembered was…

Running.

He'd left for a run after Dick had headed to work. Logan recalled turning down the sidewalk toward the pier, choosing to run along the beachside businesses. He had stopped for a while near Dick's surf shop and then headed back, changing his path to return down a different street to keep the sun out of his eyes.

It seemed that the route had been an ill-fated choice. He remembered that he'd been about a block from Dick's street when he'd felt a burning sting that had taken him immediately down. The fall was mostly due to momentum; his steps had faltered, causing him to stumble and land in a heap on the ground with his hands outstretched before him.

He'd seen the blood before the acrid smell of it had reached his nostrils, but it hadn't been until a second bullet hit the parked car next to him that Logan had comprehended that what he was seeing was _his_ blood. He'd looked up and around just in time to see a dark sedan zoom past. With one more, quick glance, he had ducked for better cover. He'd kept his body out of sight as he'd dodged between houses all the way to the beach and then run as fast as possible to Dick's house. Somehow he'd safely made his way back to Dick's house, all the while keeping his guard up, on constant lookout for another possible attack. Among other things, Logan recalled being pissed. He still was.

It had been pure adrenaline that had gotten him to Dick's back door. Because what he remembered now was only barely being able to open the door before falling across the threshold.

Gingerly, Logan fingered the back of his head. It appeared that he'd bashed his head at some point, maybe from that fall. He certainly didn't remember being struck in the head by a bullet, but that didn't rule out the possibility entirely. There was every chance in the world that the second bullet had grazed him. It would explain why he'd gone in and out of consciousness, as well as why the memory had been hazy up until now. He likely had a slight concussion.

***Break***

"Good news, Mr. Echolls."

Logan's eyes cut to the doorway as a doctor stepped into the room. The man wore the obligatory white coat and flipped through the chart in his hands as he slowly strolled farther into the room.

A flare of impatience that Logan hadn't felt in years stabbed through him. He'd just given his statement to a rookie cop who didn't seem to know the difference between a victim and suspect. He had no strength left to put up with the world's slowest doctor.

"They find me a donor already?" Logan quipped with a stoic smile. "Yippee."

The doctor cleared his throat, frowning at Logan's tone. "Young man, I'm referring to the bullet wound in your shoulder."

"It's been years since I've been called a young man, so thank you, Doctor…" Logan made a show of squinting at the name embroidered on the man's smock, "Miller. I'll check on that transplant tomorrow, then. What's the news on the shoulder?"

Dr. Miller gave him a hard look. "Sir, perhaps you are in some kind of shock. Head injuries can do that. As far as I can see, you have no medical history that would factor in to the injuries that you sustained tonight." When Logan only responded with a flat smile, the doctor fidgeted with the clipboard before pressing it to his chest. "Your injuries are minimal. The shoulder laceration is a clean through and through, very little tissue damage. The wound on your head will likely give you a nasty headache for a while, but you'll soon be right as rain."

"Right as rain?" Logan echoed softly, his eyebrows rose, suddenly serious, "Will it affect my clearance to fly? I'm in the Navy, Sir, and I have to be able to fly."

Seemingly grateful for Logan's switch in attitude, the doctor nodded enthusiastically. "I've passed the necessary information to the base. They'll have already received your records electronically. I'm sure they'll want you to be checked out by their own physicians, but I don't foresee any problem on that end. You shouldn't feel any weakness in that arm after you give it some time to heal. You're very lucky."

"Luck isn't really what I'd call it," Logan mused out loud.

After a few unpleasant minutes of poking and prodding, Dr. Miller left Logan, but not before promising to release him after a few more hours of observation. Logan had half a mind to insist on being discharged right then and there, but he knew that that if he didn't comply with medical advice it could have long lasting affects. If the Navy got wind of his lack of cooperation they could ground him, so he grudgingly decided to stay put for the night.

Dick, having vacated Logan's room right before the doctor came in, reappeared and sat down heavily on the foot of the bed. "How ya feelin', man?"

"I can't leave 'til the morning."

"Trust me, dude, morning might be too soon. You look like shit."

"Thanks." Logan blew out a breath. "How did you find me, man?"

"Miss Connor down the street heard some commotion and watched you run through everyone's backyard. She called 911 and then me." Dick awkwardly patted Logan's blanketed foot. "I got there just as the ambulance was hauling you off. I followed you after grabbing some things…that duffle you have of your stuff, your phone…which, by the way, looks like it got run over by a steam roller, man. I would have thought it got shot, too, what happened to it? You know what? Never mind, dude, it doesn't matter. Hell, you're alive. Right now that's all that matters."

Dick stood up and began pacing at the small space at the end of Logan's bed. "Who the hell shot at you, man? My neighborhood isn't exactly a _Gangsta's Paradise_. Did you see anything?"

"Just a car taking off. It's all pretty fuzzy. I wasn't exactly expecting it. My mind and eyes were looking ahead, not to the side. It's the last thing that crossed my mind—me as a target."

"Yeah, but God, Logan, why you? There's never been a shooting in that neighborhood, and then you come along and get yourself shot." Dick stopped pacing and turned to face him. "Do you think it's because of Carrie? Someone got her, so now they're going after you? Did the cop think that?"

"That cop didn't give a fuck. And I highly doubt it has anything to do with Carrie's murder." Logan had been thinking about everything since he'd woken up. It was obvious to him that someone thought he was a witness. Someone wanted Logan out of the way.

He'd deliberately chosen not to tell Dick about hiring Keith or his involvement in Carrie's case. His friend had no idea that Keith had been hurt; Logan had noticed earlier that the news hadn't reported it either. It was likely that the incident would escape the limelight.

But someone knew that Logan had been there and that he was a witness. No one, aside from Keith and Mac, knew that Logan had initiated the investigation that had solved Carrie's murder. In that light, Logan deduced that he had been attacked because of what he had seen at Keith's house two nights before.

Dick was looking at him doubtfully. Logan looked back at him and opened his mouth to tell him about Sacks and Keith. Just as he did so, the door creaked open and both men's attention was drawn to the Veronica's form as she rushed in.

Logan's mind went blank.

The sight of the two of them appeared to slow her down. Her steps, so purposeful seconds before, seemed to falter when her eyes connected with his. She pulled at her purse's strap, drawing it farther onto her shoulder. Her expression was not definable as she stepped closer.

Looking at Veronica made Logan feel old. She seemed impossibly young and fragile, while he sat there, confined to a bed, unable to do anything but watch her. At the foot of the bed, Dick stood bouncing on the balls of his feet, his antsy energy palpable. Logan himself felt unsure as to why Veronica was there and he asked the first thing that popped into his head, "Is it your dad? Is he all right?"

"No, you idiot, it's you. Dick told me you were here." The words came out in a breathless hush. Logan could tell by the quick way it gusted from her lips that she was barely holding it together.

She stood closer to the side of the bed and took in the whole picture of him lying there. Logan could imagine what Veronica saw and cringed at the thought: Logan bandaged, hooked to an IV, wearing a hospital gown, and covered in a blanket with gauze wrapped around his head.

More than once Logan had wondered if Veronica would even care if his plane was shot down over enemy lines; if she was even interested in whether he lived or died. During some of the most insane missions that he'd flown, he'd always taken a second to ponder how she would handle news of his death or injury. Now he knew, because, for the briefest of moments, he saw it written plainly across her face. He personally witnessed the near panic and sheer relief flit across her features as their eyes met.

The surge of bliss Logan felt at the knowledge that Veronica cared was quickly tamped when he realized that Keith Mars was in this very hospital, only a few floors above him, in a similar state; and that Veronica had yet to see him. Logan hurt for her. He knew she would rather be in that room, looking at that man.

She broke the connection to glance at Dick. "You said you were here… I didn't know what to think. I guess….after what happened with Dad I just thought the worst." Looking back to Logan, Veronica demanded, "What happened?"

"Dude, who'd you screw to find this room?" Dick answered for Logan with demands of his own. "And what do you mean? What happened with your dad?"

Logan flinched, jerking under Dick's accusing glare. "Dick," he heard himself warn.

Dick was immediately contrite and grimaced at him apologetically. To Veronica, Dick said, "Our pal here was shot."

"Shot?" Veronica breathed. She stepped closer but then seemed to catch herself. "Are you all right?"

"Just a flesh wound," Logan answered in a faux-British accent, "I've had worse in training drills." He lifted his arm and lost the accent, "Whoever it was has very bad aim."

"Not that bad if it landed you in here." Veronica gave up trying to keep her distance. She sat down in the chair next to his bed that Dick had occupied most of the evening. With a tone of mild concern, she asked, "Did you see who shot at you?"

"No; just a dark car that squealed by." Taking her silence as a sign that she was waiting for him to elaborate, Logan recounted the whole story, ending with, "I didn't know if the person followed me from the street, but when there was no noise, I chanced it and made a run for Dick's place." He shrugged, "I made it in one piece. Dick's neighbor called 911."

"Did the police take a report?" Veronica probed, her face white. "Please tell me they took a report."

Dick interrupted then, taking Logan's hesitation as opportunity. "Lamb sent over some newbie deputy to write one up; that's what Logan was doing when you called."

"Do you know who would have done this?" Veronica queried. "What kinds of enemies do you keep nowadays?"

"Nice," Logan muttered under his breath. _And so it begins. It's just like Veronica to assume that I created the am I not surprised?_ "Did it ever occur to you that I might have been at the wrong place at the wrong time? It could have been gang related, like an initiation shooting or something. That happens, even in Neptune!"

"This is you we're talking about, Logan. The possibility of this being a random act is not even remotely likely, and you know it," she retorted before changing the subject. "The night of Dad's attack, did you see anything?"

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "So, you want to do this right now? Here?"

"I do. I think it's related to what happened tonight to you."

He sighed. "Fine. I saw an old truck come down the street, hit Sacks' car, turn around, and hit it a second time. I never saw the driver. It was well past dark and I was more intent on getting your dad out of the passenger seat than I was on taking notes for you." He let another snarky rejoinder die on his lips when he saw her earnest expression. Instead he softened his voice and told her, "I'm tired. Maybe you should go on up to the fifth floor and see how your dad is doing. They're planning to release me in the morning; you can harass me with more questions later." He hated to brush her off, but it was for her own good. In actuality, he agreed almost one hundred percent with Veronica's assessment of the situation. But there was no way he would tell her that. If he did, it would mean getting her involved in something dangerous. He had no intention of being the one to pull her back into the world that she had walked away from.

Veronica sat back in the chair. She rolled her lips inward as though thinking of a way to press him further. He was surprised, however, when she gave him a silent nod, stood up, and hoisted her bag's strap firmly onto her shoulder.

"I'm glad you're all right. Get some rest." She looked indecisive but then added, "When you feel up to it, I really would like to talk to you about…that night. I have some questions that only you can answer. And, please, if you think of anything else, let me know. I can't stand not knowing why this happened. To either of you."

With that, Veronica left.

***Break***

"Dude, what happened with Ronnie's dad?"

Dick's voice cut through Logan's wandering thoughts. Without opening his eyes, Logan muttered, "I assume you're asking why didn't I tell you he almost died?"

"No, man," Dick's voice was accusing, "Why you failed to mention you pulled him out of a car while under a…a…an attack! You could have been killed and for what!? What has Keith Mars ever done for you?"

Logan sat up straighter so that he could look Dick square in the face. "First of all, I can't even believe you would say that. Keith Mars…Keith Mars is more of a man than either of our fathers ever even _tried_ to be. Second of all, me getting involved wasn't something I thought about; I just _reacted_. My adrenaline was pumping and there was glass flying and metal crunching. You weren't there; you have no idea what the hell it's like be in the 'under an attack'," he mimicked. "I don't just wait to see what happens when I'm in the middle of something like that, man, and, hell, if you do, you can just fuck off. Don't judge me for doing more than you would do, Dick."

Logan watched his friend crumble before his eyes. Dick's posture wilted from ramrod straight to completely slumped over Logan's bed. "That's why you are a lieutenant in the Navy, man, and I surf for a living. You're just built better than me; you always were." The blond man shook his head. "I'm just having a little trouble wrapping my head around all this. I'm used worrying about you when you're overseas, dude, not when you're stateside. I come home tonight to find that you nearly bled to death on my doorstep. Now I find out that it could have happened _twice_ in a week? Fucking Neptune! I haven't had to wonder about hits on you for almost nine years, man, what the hell am I supposed to think? You tell me how I'm supposed to feel. I don't want to bury another friend, Logan." With the last sentence, Dick's voice cracked, and Logan watched as his friend push his fists into the bed more firmly. "You should only put your life on the line when I'm nowhere near you. Cuz then I can't try to prevent it."

"The bonds of friendship, right?"

"Damn straight, dude. You've kept me off the brink more times than I care to count; can't I return the favor for once?"

"I think it is pretty much out of my hands at this point, Dick. If Veronica's theory is true, I might be in for a ride whether I want to be on it or not. And with Veronica…her assumptions, regarding the big things, usually have credence."

Dick sighed and flopped his body hard into a chair. "And here I thought Ronnie stopped by this morning just for old time's sake. How naïve of me."

 **A/N: Looking like it may be more like 2 weeks between postings, just because of summer and life.**

 **But I hope you are enjoying this story!**


	4. Chapter 4 Suspicious Minds

**A/N: Thank you again to all that have reviewed, followed and favorited. I do appreciate it. Thank you, also, Bondopoulos for the patience it takes to Beta for me amidst the second guessing and all that. Special thanks to the reviewers, I like to personally thank you all and I honestly do. Please forgive me for the lack of personal messages as I have concentrated my efforts to bring you the best Chapters I possibly can give. Thank you.  
**

Chapter 4 Suspicious Minds

The ancient waiting room chairs had not magically become more comfortable since the previous night. Veronica squirmed uneasily in her seat in a vain attempt to ease the knot in her back, but quickly gave up, cringing as she sat up again.

She'd followed Logan's suggestion and gone directly from his hospital room to the ICU waiting room on the fifth floor. The doctor on call had been kind enough to take some time for her almost immediately, but Keith's condition hadn't changed. The doctor gave her the same information she'd heard that morning. Despite this, Veronica had made the executive decision to remain in the waiting room for a few hours. Even if her dad wasn't aware that she was there, it would make Veronica feel better. She'd felt guilty all day for leaving Keith for so long. It wasn't as though she'd had much choice in the matter. The doctors weren't allowing Keith to have visitors, but it still made her feel strange. Taking time to do things that weren't directly benefitting her dad felt wrong.

For the past four hours, Veronica had been putting in her time dozing, occasionally and uncomfortably, across two chairs. The doctor had impressed upon her how amazing a natural nights' rest could do for the human body. He'd told Veronica that he expected Keith to show some signs improvement by morning. There was a possibility of Veronica being able to have a brief visit with Keith if he did improve. The doctor had told her to come back. She'd opted to stay.

Sitting there with nothing else to do, Veronica's thoughts drifted to the hospital patient she had been allowed to see. It had been easy to find his room, and she had taken little thought when she'd barged into it but had stopped short by the sight of him lying on the pristine white bed. Logan hadn't seemed pleased to see her there; in fact, the look he'd given her when she'd walked in the door had caught her off-guard. His defensiveness was familiar but strange at the same time; she hadn't heard or seen that side of him since their senior year of high school. Her reaction to his negative look had instantly vanished when she'd seen the extent of his injuries. She couldn't believe that he'd been shot. Veronica had never seen him like that before, and it startled her that the sight of him with a bullet wound scared her so much.

The truth was Veronica couldn't read Logan anymore. Hell, if she were being honest with herself, she didn't know if she'd ever truly been able to read him. Logan had always kept a very carefully constructed shell around him. It appeared that this hadn't changed, even nine years later. She supposed that he still had a need for the safeguard. His very famous girlfriend had very recently been murdered by people they'd considered friends. Logan had always used sarcasm and anger to shield himself from reality. She remembered all too well how much he'd changed once Lilly had died, and even more so after his mother had taken her own life. He'd spiraled and spiraled out of control.

But he was a pilot in the Navy now; that had to signify something. The Logan she'd known had such a predisposition for snark that he should have been given a general discharge before he'd even finished boot camp. Surely that meant that Logan must have changed. Clearly he'd not only made it through basic training, but he had thrived.

Thinking about his attitude made Veronica think of the way he'd looked at her when she'd visited him at the beach house that morning. His brown eyes had been soft and he'd been so patient; his explanation had been quick and to the point. He hadn't tried to ask her about her life or waste any of her time. He'd just let her go.

She tried not to let her mind wonder what she would have done if he had asked about her life now. She couldn't let herself think about what she would have done if he'd given even the smallest sign of comfort. Would have been able to resist him?

Probably not.

***Break***

His release papers were finally in his hands. Though the doctor had spent an inordinate time giving last minute instructions, Logan hadn't listened. Now, however, he wished he had paid a little bit more attention so that he wouldn't have to count on Dick's memory. He was worried that he'd put too much faith in his friend. Dick had never been known to take special care in paying attention but Logan had thought maybe with what had happened that maybe Dick would impress him. But it seemed not so. At present, as Dick pushed Logan in the wheelchair through the hallway, he would jerk the wheelchair's handles in an attempt at keeping the wheelchair in a straight line. The sensation of being out of control was giving Logan a near heart attack with every jar. Not that the pain was something he couldn't handle, he just didn't see a need to add yet another injury to his list. He kept having visions of his knee being jammed unmercifully into an unmanned food cart or gurney.

As they finally neared the elevator, the doctor approached them again in the middle of the hallway. At this rate, Logan was beginning to feel that he might never actually leave the building.

The doctor stopped them with a wave of his hand. "I've just had a call from your commanding officer. You need to be seen at the Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton within two weeks. I've already forwarded on the necessary paperwork."

"Thanks, Doc," Logan said, looking back at the tall doctor as Dick pushed the 'down' button of the elevator.

The doctor started to turn back down the hall, but hesitated and turned back. "You can call here if you have questions, but like I said earlier, you're going to make a full recovery."

The sound of the elevator opening caught Logan's attention and he turned back to face it. The door slid open and Dick began pushing him through it. Logan kept his eyes downcast until he heard Dick's sharp intake of breath which caused him to immediately look up. Mac and Veronica stood in the back of the elevator, side by side. Mac's eyes were fixated on Dick and Veronica's were on Logan.

Veronica looked as if she had spent a very uncomfortable night in plastic chairs, much the way he'd slept a few nights before. Mac looked as if she were on her way to work and he wondered just when the computer wiz had gotten to the hospital.

"Hi," Logan ventured, willing Dick to wheel the wheelchair around to face the front door of the elevator. "How's your dad this morning?"

Veronica rolled her lips inward before answering. "They finally kicked me out. I guess even waiting rooms have visiting hours." She gestured to the wheelchair. "Going home, huh? That was quick."

"They only kept me overnight to monitor me because of the fall. I still remembered my name this morning so they're letting me go home."

Finally, Dick wheeled the chair around so that Logan wasn't compelled to stare at Veronica the whole ride to the lobby. Although now he was being forced to sit beside her and stare uncomfortably straight ahead. It was a better option, but only marginally.

Behind him, Dick kept fidgeting with the handles of the wheelchair. His friend seemed nervous and on edge. Logan guessed that it might be due to the fact that they were trapped in a six by six square box and breathing the same air as Cindy Mackenzie. Inwardly, Logan chuckled at the irony of the situation.

Ever since college, Dick had had a slight 'thing' for Mac. He didn't think that Logan knew about it, but Logan totally did. It had started innocently enough, but the few times that Logan had invited Mac over, Dick got all weird and acted strangely. Well, stranger than he normally did, that is.

Dick cleared his throat. "You two up for the high school reunion? It's this weekend!" He said the last in a cajoling way, adding, "It might be fun seeing some of the old alumnus!"

"Alumni."

Mac's answer was soft, so soft that Logan would have missed it had it not been for the fact that they were in such close proximity.

"What?"

"Alumni, Dick, alumni. That's the plural form of the word, and hence, the one you meant."

Logan glanced back at Mac who was glaring at Dick. He locked eyes with Veronica who shrugged wordlessly, clearly at a loss at Mac's tone as well.

"Well, whatev, you two should totally come!" Dick's exuberance was interrupted by the binging of the elevator door. "You know," he continued as he wheeled Logan out onto the main floor, "They give out prizes for things like, oh, I don't know, say, the 'Person most changed by blog posts' and 'Smartest underrated hottie.' You'd win both of those, Mackster, I wouldn't even have to stuff the ballot box."

"You've almost got me to come, but what category would Veronica win?" Mac remarked drolly.

"Hey, if I made you come, my job here is finished." Dick bobbed his head at the women's look of disgust. He grinned lecherously. "Hey, now, you can't set me up like that and expect me to just ignore it."

The group made their way to the entryway where Dick stopped pushing the wheelchair. The four of them naturally fell into a small circle near the sliding glass doors.

Mac was still glaring at Dick, but Veronica was looking down at Logan.

His heart was beating wildly. She looked like she always used to, with a steely determination in her eyes. For a moment, Logan felt like he was nineteen again and completely at her mercy.

It bothered him just a little that he still knew that he would do anything for her.

He gave a small smile. "If you wanted to, you can, you know, umm…come over, and, uh…we can talk about what I saw that night," he hated his stammering. "Dick's taking me there now…I mean, to his beach house. Home is actually San Diego, I'm not…umm…" he shook his head, embarrassed. Softly, he said, "You seemed to want to talk about it last night. I should be there all day. You can stop by when you have a chance, if you'd like."

***Break***

"That guy is such an ass."

"Who, Logan?" Veronica replied automatically, trying to fit the key into Keith's Le Sabre. If only her dad believed in key fobs. "What'd he ever do to you?"

"No, not Logan! I guess I know where your mind has wandered. You'd better watch yourself." Mac gave Veronica a look. "No, I meant Dick!"

"Oh." Veronica didn't give herself time to be embarrassed. "What'd Dick ever do to you? He's just the same ol' same ol'. I never give him a second thought." Finally successful in sliding the key into the lock, Veronica opened the door and threw her bag to the passenger seat. "But I guess that means I know where your mind is as well. He's always making comments like that. Why do you suddenly care now? What's your beef?"

Mac wouldn't meet her eye. "Oh, you know…I mean, god, why does he always have to be so crass all the time?" She lowered her voice in imitation, "'I made you come, my job's done here.'" She rolled her eyes. "What an idiot."

"Hmm. Well, he's Dick. Idiot is his middle name…Ass is just part of his DNA." Veronica motioned to the computer bag Mac carried. "So what did the computer yield?"

"I put anything that I thought was pertinent on a jump drive; it's in here," Mac tapped the bag's outside pocket. "But I'm sure I might not have seen it all. Your discretion. I reset the security password to the name of the dog you had in high school."

Veronica smiled at Mac's sneaky instruction. Mac handed the bag over.

"The email he'd accessed last is at the top of the file on the drive. Let me know what else I can do."

With that, the two said their goodbyes and parted.

***Break***

Veronica sat in her father's spare room, staring down at a footlocker that contained everything from her past life in Neptune. She still clearly remembered the day she'd packed it all up. Her father had stood in the doorway of her room, a sad little smile on his face while he watched her. They had said very little at the time, but they both had known that it was the closing of a chapter in her life that was necessary. She'd packed the box and then a bag, had left for Stanford, and hadn't looked back. She'd never worked a case again. No one she'd met at Stanford, or in the years that had followed, knew of her little hobby in high school; her part time job. Or the PI license she'd obtained at nineteen. Or how proud she'd been to have it.

The past few days did not feel real. It was as if the whole situation had been a surreal nightmare. For the past nine years Veronica had lived a different life, never imagining that she would be sucked back into the world of Neptune for any reason at all, let alone because of an attempt on her father's life and the life of her ex-boyfriend.

Now, it seemed, was the time to open the footlocker and truly pull out her past. She was being called back into the fold; or, more accurately, she was being cattle-prodded back into the herd.

With a deep breath, Veronica grasped the lid and opened her past.

***Break***

The message left on Logan's voicemail discouraged him.

He'd been given direct orders, and unfortunately they were not the ones he wanted to comply with. But, since no one would smuggle him onto the aircraft carrier or even onto base, Logan would have to do what he'd been told. As of that morning, he was on a two-month mandatory leave.

To grieve, his CO said. And also to begin any physical therapy that was necessary to get back to full-strength.

Logan didn't need _leave_ to gain strength; he needed to be back on duty. Back flying, back with the other pilots. The last thing he needed was to be standing in his friend's beach house, injured and idle, staring out the window.

Logan heard Dick laugh out loud from behind him, and he turned to see his friend cackle again at something on he was watching on Instagram. The raucous laughter only served to intensify the headache that had been threatening Logan all morning. Unexpectedly, he felt homesickness for his little apartment in San Diego and the silence to be found there. It was tempting to leave. Now that Carrie's murder had been solved, he really didn't need to be in Neptune any longer. In fact, his bag was already packed and ready to go.

Logan fingered the key fob in his hand, debating. The doctor hadn't exactly cleared him to drive, but he also hadn't told Logan not to. It was the middle of the day, traffic would be light…Logan could always use a car service to take him to San Diego. But then he'd be stuck at home without his car.

Veronica's doe-eyed face suddenly popped up in his mind, taunting him. If he left town now, without so much as a word to her, Veronica's questions would go unanswered. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she chased him down to San Diego to finish their conversation.

Decision made, Logan stuck the fob back into his front pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Dick was right, the thing did look as if it had been run over, but it was still functional. Logan scrolled through his recent incoming calls and found her number, right at the top.

***Break***

The black messenger bag's strap felt familiar and right slung over her shoulder. It was almost comforting how the bag lightly tapped against her hip as she walked. She'd stuffed her dad's computer, plus all the pertinent files that she'd found, inside the bag before she'd left Keith's house. She'd also thrown a high-resolution camera and some basic 'spy-gear' into the back seat of the Le Sabre as well, thinking she might head over to the sheriff's station after a little more digging at MI's office.

Veronica had just let herself into the front door of MI when her cell phone began to ring. Flipping open the flap of the bag, she fished the phone from the side pocket and looked at the screen. _Logan._

She punched answer and brought the phone to her ear. "Please don't tell me you got shot again."

"Cute," came Logan's dry response. "I'm leaving for San Diego. If you want to talk to me, I can stop by now or else you're gonna have to come find me."

***Break***

So, she was going to see Logan again and sooner than she was prepared for. He'd been insistent on the phone that this was the only time that would for him.

His tune had certainly changed. Earlier at the hospital, he'd acted willing to help her out, but just now on the phone he'd sounded determined to get out of Neptune.

And why shouldn't he be? Someone had just recently tried to shoot him. He probably wanted out of town and out of Dodge.

She pushed end on her phone and threw it back into the depths of her bag. The way he'd looked at her when they'd parted at the hospital was conflicting with the way he'd sounded on the phone. Although Veronica was glad that Logan wanted to help her, his tone suggested that he only wanted to get it over with and get out of town so that he could put it all behind him. Well, that was fine. She could play that game, too. Get her answers from him and let him go. Then she wouldn't have to see him again. She'd be able to figure out who attacked her dad and likely who shot Logan along with it. She didn't need Logan's help or support if he wasn't willing to give it. She could do it all on her own.

While waiting for Logan to arrive, Veronica roamed the office. On her way over, she'd realized that the sheriff's office was probably where to start. She found Keith's stockpile of good surveillance equipment. She went through it and stashed some of it in her bag and set the larger items in the trunk of the Le Sabre, thinking she'd go through it all tonight at the house.

She was surprised at how easily found herself falling into her old rhythm of shrewd thinking. People always left trails or made mistakes. Eventually there would be an opportunity to catch the people responsible for her father's attack, and she wouldn't rest until they were all taken down.

Everything that she could possibly do in the office complete, Veronica sat down at the front desk and opened her father's laptop. She pulled out the jump drive that Mac had given her and plugged it in, opening the file and skimming it quickly.

Right at the top was the emails just as Mac had promised; Veronica clicked the first one and saw that it had been sent from the Daily Neptune. The body of the email contained only a single phrase: 'as requested' with an attachment listed at the top. When she clicked the attachment, she found that it was an article dated just over two years earlier. It detailed the ground breaking ceremony for both the new Balboa County Sheriff's office and Town Hall building. Both buildings had been funded by a rather large donation from a man named Larry Morrison.

According to the article, Morrison was a long-time resident of Neptune, but Veronica only vaguely recalled having hearing his name before. The article wasn't clear on extent of Morrison's wealth; it mostly praised the man's generosity. A quick Google search told her that he'd kept a low profile until he'd hit it big with a biotech company that she'd never heard of before. The company had isolated the genome for prostate cancer. Admirable as that was, it wasn't anything that interested Veronica, so she clicked back to the attachment.

At the top of the article was picture and Veronica inspected it closely. The photo op was of the Morrison Town Hall Ground Breaking Ceremony, complete with the standard red-ribbon cutting. There were no names underneath it, but she assumed that it was Larry Morrison who held the large, over-sized scissors, about to cut the ribbon. Next to him stood, Veronica assumed, Sheriff Dan Lamb, with a cheesy-asshole smile on his face. She recognized a Lamb smile when she saw one. Behind them were several bystanders, who likely were the staff and family of either the police department or town hall.

Not for the first time, Veronica wished she could crack her dad's safe. Something in it might just reveal what had prompted Keith to order an article as mundane as a, seemingly routine, ground breaking ceremony. Important information was in that safe, she knew it.

She eyed the rest of what Mac had marked and then opened Keith's Outlook to see if there was anything else that was of interest. Scrolling down the list of emails, Veronica waited for something to jump out at her. Something like an email from Deputy Sacks, perhaps, or maybe an anonymous tipster.

There, midway down, was the one she'd been looking for. An email had come in on the day of the attack.

She eagerly clicked it open.

***Break***

The past week's events were making Logan edgy. When he pulled up to the curb, he saw no cars parked in front of the building that was home to Mars Investigations. On the phone, Veronica had promised that she would wait in the office for him, but from the looks of the place, it was vacant and deserted. Feeling unnaturally suspicious, Logan looked around and then felt foolish for being so jumpy. He'd passed one lone car as he'd turned onto the street, but otherwise the street was now empty. The only noise Logan could hear was squealing tires and a barking dog from a few streets over. It felt too quiet, which made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Something just felt…off.

Maybe it was pain. He pulled out the bottle of Advil he'd swiped from Dick's medicine cabinet and downed two, swallowing them without water. The doctor had prescribed him more heavy-duty meds, but Logan refused to take them. He could deal with the pain if he wanted to drive. One armed but lucid was the only way he'd manage to get to his apartment, and then he could take the meds and go to bed. The blissful idea of sleep was drug enough for him to wait a couple more hours to take stronger pain pills.

Logan had promised Dick when he left the beach house that they would catch up over the weekend at the Neptune High reunion. He'd purposefully neglected to mention that he was heading to meet with Veronica before skipping town. Though Dick had given Logan an incredulous look at the news that Logan was heading home, he hadn't said anything in argument. Logan could tell that Dick thought he should stay in Neptune but would never voice his opinion.

Logan pulled his laptop bag out from the back seat of his BMW carefully to avoid straining his injured arm. He wasn't sure if Veronica would even be interested in any of the files that he'd accumulated during Carrie's murder investigation, but he wanted to offer them to her. He knew that, if Keith's attack had been brought on by something one of them had unearthed while digging around for Carrie's killer, Veronica should have them. And at the very least, Veronica couldn't say that Logan had withheld the evidence.

He quickened his pace up the front steps and let himself into the building before shutting the door tightly behind him. When the door clicked, it muted all sound from outside. Normally, Logan would have opted for the stairs over the elevator, but his shoulder already tweaked in protest and his head ached like crazy. Annoyed at his weakness, Logan pressed the button to call the elevator and waited. It creaked and groaned before finally opening, and Logan gingerly stepped inside, realizing now how sore he actually felt. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Moments later, he stepped out of the elevator and noted that the outside hallway that led to MI was lit up as he let himself into the little office. The last time he'd been here, Logan had had a case of nerves that he couldn't quite shake.

 _**Flashback**_

 _Thinking about the reason he was here, about to talk with the one person in Neptune that he respected, had left Logan increasingly tense all morning. Coming to Keith Mars had been something that had to be done, but it was not a decision that Logan had made lightly. He and Keith had a rough history. Keith had never completely seemed to trust Logan in the past, and had never seemed to believe much of anything Logan had to say back then. And Veronica. Oh, the past that held Veronica. He had to quit thinking about her and take charge of this meeting for Carrie. It was more important than any qualms he had about meeting with Keith Mars._

 _Standing in the main office, Logan could hear Keith talking with someone in the other room. The older man's tone was concerned yet calm, just the way Logan remembered him. The familiarity of it actually seemed to soothe Logan's frayed nerves, if for a moment. Keith's voice was melodic. In an attempt at keeping his mind off his jitters, Logan focused on the words seeping through the door._

 _"Yes, yes, I have it listed November eighteenth…four of them…or his son...exactly. It's not good." There was a murmured response and then: "I'll watch for it."_

 _The sound of chairs scraping back made Logan straighten to attention. Two shadowy forms appeared through the frosted panel of the inner door and then the door swung open to reveal Keith Mars and a tall, stocky man just behind him._

 _Keith and his client entered the waiting area and Keith, addressing Logan, said, "It'll be just a moment." And then to his other client, said, "We'll keep in contact, thanks for coming in."_

 _The tall man said his goodbye, not looking once at Logan, and disappeared through the front door without a second glance._

 _Keith turned to Logan with a wide smile that Logan couldn't quite decide whether it was genuine or not._

 _"Logan Echolls." Keith greeted warmly, extending his hand to shake Logan's. "It's been a long time. Come on back to my office and we can discuss the details of Ms. Bishop's death. I'm interested to hear exactly what makes you think her death was a homicide."_

 _"Thank you, sir, for agreeing to see me," Logan replied as he followed the PI into the back office. When Keith gestured for him to take a seat, Logan sat but continued, saying, "I know you probably never expected to hear from me, especially regarding anything like this. I appreciate you taking the time to at least humor me, sir. I don't think anyone else would have given me the time of day."_

 _Settling back into his chair, Keith waved a hand and said graciously, "I wouldn't have any cases if I dismissed every odd claim. I at least look at all the possibilities; that's Rule Number One in the PI Handbook." He smiled, the lines about his eyes crinkling, "The sad truth is that in Neptune, most of the time, the obvious answer is usually not the right one."_

 _***End Flashback***_

Logan had been ridiculously nervous to meet Keith Mars that first night. While Keith and Logan had rarely seen eye-to-eye, it had never stopped Logan from recognizing how smart and perceptive the other man was. It turned out that Logan's nerves were unfounded; not once had Keith held who Logan once was against the man Logan had become. They worked well together professionally, and not once after that initial meeting had Logan felt awkward around the other man.

His thoughts were interrupted when the inner door opened and Veronica emerged from the back office. For a moment, their eyes connected and Logan felt swept back to years ago, when he used to come to the old MI office to see her. It felt like a punch to his gut, but, before he could register it, Veronica broke the contact to gesture him to follow her back to Keith's desk.

They both sat down, she behind the big mahogany desk and Logan across from her. He watched in amusement while Veronica threaded her fingers together and rested her elbows on the blotter; it so reminded him of days past.

Meeting his eye, Veronica said matter-of-factly, "I need to know what you saw the night you pulled Dad from the car." When Logan said nothing, she continued, "Let's start with why you were there in the first place."

He could see that her walls were up around her. There was no softness or vulnerability in her eyes like before at the hospital. Logan sighed. He knew that he would never get away with vagueness with this side of Veronica. She'd never put up with it before, and it was obvious that she wouldn't put up with it now either. "A tiger never changes its stripes, eh, Veronica?"

Her gaze narrowed, cold. "I don't like this anymore than you do, you know. Interviewing you, of all people, is not on my list of top ten best ways to pass the time. Let's just get this over with." She gestured to his shoulder. "Someone might be trying to get rid of you for some reason. If what you saw that night is that reason, then you and Dad both are in some serious danger."

"Fine. You're right." Inwardly squirming, Logan began, "I hired Mars Investigations to look into Carrie's death. You probably read on the tabloid covers that they just discovered it was murder. Gia Goodman, Stu Cobbler, and Luke Haldeman have been charged with her murder and with covering it up. I requested that my name and MI's name be kept out of the press for various reasons, but mostly for privacy. Very few people know that I hired MI; Lamb was all too happy to keep that tidbit out of the reports." He shrugged. "Some things never change with the Balboa County Sheriff these days, no matter which Lamb wears the badge."

"Okay, well, I already figured most of that all out from Dad's paperwork I found. But the case had been solved and the evidence taken to the Sheriff's office that morning. What were you doing at Dad's place of residence?"

"To pay him. Which reminds me." With his good hand, Logan unzipped the outer pocket of his laptop case and pulled out the check he'd written that afternoon. He slid it across the desk to her. "He was going to tell me what I actually owed him that night. I gave him a retainer when I hired him, but I know you might need the funds now for things; I can pay you the rest when you find his invoice."

Delicately, Veronica picked the check up with both hands and stared at the total. "I don't need your money, Logan."

He had to work hard to not roll his eyes. Of course she'd say that; he'd been expecting it. "That's not what this is and you know it, Veronica. Check his books. I owe him at least that much, probably closer to double that. He did a lot of digging." For some reason, Logan couldn't bring himself to say Keith's name. "And he succeeded. He proved what I knew to be true; Carrie didn't kill herself. For that alone, any amount he charged me would be worth it."

Veronica was silent, her eyes still fixed on the check. Finally, she looked up and said quietly, "You must have really loved her. To not believe she'd do that and to fight to prove it, despite the evidence."

Logan shut his eyes. He wanted to deny it, to deny his love for a girl who had been such a mess in real life. But it really wasn't any of Veronica's business. His heart shuttered closed. The less she knew about it, the better off he'd be. So, in answer, he told her, "Carrie was more than what the tabloids painted her to be. And if I'm the only one who cared enough about her to question her death, so be it. I wasn't here when it happened; I was on a damn ship thousands of miles away, and because of that I couldn't help but question the death of someone who was important to me. I just wanted peace of mind. Your dad is good at his job. He proved to me and the world that my suspicions were correct. I'll always be grateful."

For a moment, they both remained silent. It was Veronica that broke the silence, redirecting the conversation back to its original direction.

"It we get what happened that night out of the way, then we can work on your shooting and see if they are connected," Veronica's tone was flat. "What exactly happened? Why were you at his house, Logan?"

He leaned forward and kept his eyes hooded when he answered. "Your dad asked me to come to his house, I don't know why he chose there and not the office. He'd taken everything to Lamb earlier that day. We were…" he paused, keeping his eyes focused on his hands. "We were going to share a drink and celebrate, and also finish up the last bit of paperwork."

Veronica nodded slowly. "That makes sense. The case file was on the kitchen table as if he planned to go through it. What next?"

He drew in a breath. "Well, I got there just a bit early. I parked across the street and just as I was crossing it, I heard the noise of the truck coming down the street. It broadsided the car. I went to investigate and realized it was…it was your dad in the passenger's seat. I pulled him out and just as I did, the truck came back and hit the car a second time."

"Did you see anyone in the truck? Any special markings? Anything at all?" Veronica's voice cracked.

His gaze sharpened on her when he heard the break in her voice and he shook his head in regret. "It was a rusty old pickup truck. Everything happened so fast. All I could think about was getting him out of that car as quickly as possible."

"Mac said you called her. Thank you."

"You've already thanked me. Like I said, I didn't do anything that anyone else wouldn't have done. It was nothing."

"Has Lamb questioned you at all about that night?"

Logan felt the intensity of her gaze and he regretfully told her, "No. I'm sorry. The EMTs got us both out of there before Lamb had even arrived at the scene. No one has ever contacted me about that night; not at the time, and not afterwards either."

"But they knew it was you?"

He nodded. "Yeah, they knew it was me all right. Though the lack of cameras and paparazzi might have thrown them off for a few minutes."

He watched her jot something down. "And what happened after the second hit?"

"By the time I looked up some neighbors had come out. Someone called 911. I was focused on your father."

"You didn't see anything else suspicious?"

"God, Veronica, isn't it enough that I kept your father from dying on the sidewalk?" Before he could keep his temper in check, Logan bit out, "Oh, wait, I'm pretty sure I saw a bumper sticker on the truck as it zoomed off. It said, 'how's my driving, call 800-thugs-r-us.'"

"Oh, there's the Echolls charm I've missed so much," Veronica quipped back. "I only meant maybe there was someone on the street that seemed…I don't know, off somehow. Like maybe you'd seen an accomplice casing the house or the neighborhood. I meant nothing by it." Her tone softened. "It's been a really long time since I've looked into a case, especially…especially one that's so personal. Forgive me for asking redundant questions; I don't want to miss anything."

Feeling a bit of remorse for his outburst, Logan played with the sleeve of his shirt and dropped his eyes from hers. "To be perfectly honest, I didn't see anything more than what I've told you. When I saw Keith in that car, my only thought was to get him out of harm's way. I've been trained in combat; I should have been aware of everything around me. To a certain extent I was. But I couldn't tell you if there was a suspicious looking neighbor. No one was on the street when I got out of my car. Of that much I'm positive."

"And you didn't see who shot you yesterday?"

"No."

Veronica pushed herself away from the desk and stood up. "I think you're being targeted because of something you saw that night, or something that someone thinks that you saw. But I have to be certain. Are you sure that no one else was involved in Carrie's death besides the three that were arrested? And are you certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that those involved do not know that it was you who instigated the case against them? "

"I'm sure. Luke, Stu, and Gia all think that the sheriff's office figured it out. Your dad kept both of our names out of everything. He let Lamb take all of the glory. As of this moment, the only people who now know I hired your dad are Mac, Dick, and you. No one else, not even the sheriff's department, knew that I was the one to hire MI. I'm pretty sure Keith gave them the impression that it was Carrie's dad who had hired him. That was my agreement with your father from the beginning and he kept his side of it. The only reason Mac found out was because she's smart and put it together; and Dick—well, Dick doesn't know the whole truth of it, but if he'd took some time, he'd get it. And then that leaves you."

Midway through his explanation, Veronica had moved over to look out the window. Logan could tell that she was listening, but her attention was divided between him and something below on the street.

"Veronica?"

"Shh…" She motioned with her hand indicating she was concentrating, so he stood up and came around the desk to stand beside her. He peered out of the window from over her shoulder. Softly, she asked, "Did someone come with you?"

"No…" At first, Logan didn't see what she was looking at. Then something caught his eye; a movement near the corner of the building. A second later it happened again, and then Logan more clearly saw a man, wearing a baseball cap and a black sweatshirt, suspiciously loitering.

Silently they watched the man approach Logan's car, keeping his head down the entire time. Logan drew a deep intake of breath when the man stopped and looked into the convertible. "What the hell?"

The man barely glanced around before leaning into the back seat.

Beside Logan, Veronica turned away from the window and grabbed a long-lensed camera from the top of a file cabinet. Turning back, she put the camera to her eye and began snapping pictures.

"He's pretty damn ballsy to be tampering with my car in broad daylight!" Logan said, becoming increasingly irate. "How the hell do you open this window? Forget it; I'm going down there to kick some black-sweatshirt ass!"

"Logan." Veronica lowered the camera to look at him. "You're in no state to kick any ass."

At that exact moment, the wound at his shoulder gave a stab in pain, which pissed him off even more. Logan glared down at the street and attempted to compose himself. _Damn it all to hell,_ Logan thought to himself, _I've always hated it when she's right._ "Well, then what am I supposed to do? Watch him hotwire my car? Or better yet, throw my keys down to him to make the job easier?"

"No," Veronica answered with a voice that was infuriatingly calm, "We watch him plant whatever it is that he's planting and see if we can figure out what he's about."

"Shouldn't we just call the cops?" The burst of laughter that erupted from her made him smile awkwardly. "It was just a suggestion, sheesh."

"Logan, if what I'm thinking is true, then that man down there _is_ a cop. A call wouldn't do any good."

Veronica lifted the camera back to her eyes and snapped some additional pictures.

"It looks like…"

"Yeah, he's leaving."

* * *

 **A/N Thanks for reading! If you have time, I appreciate your reviews! Thanks!**


	5. Chapter 5 Escape

**A/N:As per my usual, I super appreciate your continuation of reading this story. I thank Bondopoulos for her patience with me, my second guessing and her being my personal cheer corner without which I would not likely be anywhere near where I am with this story. So thank you, thank you. And to all of you, thank you.  
**

 **And here we go..**

* * *

Chapter 5 Escape

After watching the capped figure at Logan's car, Veronica was more convinced than ever that someone was attempting to get rid of a potential witness. Just because Logan said he hadn't seen anything didn't mean someone wasn't determined to rid themselves of a potential problem. He'd been concentrating on the emergency and not what was going on around him, but that didn't mean that anyone else knew that. If Logan was now a target, she was sure someone was tidying up after a botched job. Whomever was behind this had intended for her dad to have died along with Sacks; Logan's intervention had messed up the plan.

From what Logan had told her, he hadn't given a formal statement to the sheriff's department. But the death of a deputy was high profile enough that it would undoubtedly warrant some kind of police report. Veronica wanted to see that file. If she could see what the police were saying about Sacks' death, she'd know what she was up against.

While Logan waited in the front office, Veronica gathered the laptop and some random files and stuffed them into her bag. Next, she unlocked the bottom drawer of the big mahogany desk and pulled out Keith's handgun. She'd found the key to the drawer earlier and had set it aside, not wanting to touch the thing. Now it seemed very important for her to keep the weapon with her. Feeling spooked was trumping her dislike of firearms. She stowed the semiautomatic carefully in the holster that hung on the coat rack and then shrugged it on. She then pulled her jacket on over it to conceal it.

In the main office, Logan stood at a window and was watching the street below.

She shut the inner door behind her. "I'm ready."

He turned to look at her and Veronica stopped for a moment. At the hospital, he'd looked frail. Now, even with his injuries, he had a spark in his eye and serious set to his jaw. He looked more like the Naval officer that he was.

"Shall we go out the front together?" He asked, coming around the reception desk to stand in front of her.

Mildly distracted by watching him, Veronica tightened her jacket around her and swallowed. "Uh, no, I think we should both go down the service stairway together. You can walk me to Dad's car and then I can drive you to the front."

"I think I can manage walking to the front without an escort," Logan said, "I'm not going to do anything stupid to that asshole."

She gave him a dubious look. "Really." Veronica started toward the door. "Would ya believe that I'm not so much worried about the asshole?"

"Well, that's really too bad," Logan said into her back, "I was planning on getting his number for you. Maybe a name. You could friend him on Facebook. Or follow him on Twitter."

"Could I?" Veronica responded, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at him, "I'm so glad I have you here, watching out for me."

Once in the hallway, Veronica made sure that all of the lights were out before she locked up the office. They headed to the end of the hallway to a set of stairs that led down to the back parking lot. Now that they were in the darkened hallway, Logan looked somewhat listless. He was holding his injured arm closely to his body, and Veronica suspected that it hurt more than he was willing to admit. The temporary resolve she'd seen on his face in the office was now gone and now he looked exhausted. She wasn't surprised, though, that Logan kept up with her. He remained right behind her as they started down the stairs without speaking another word.

Veronica wasn't prepared for their close proximity in the stairwell to make so her hyperaware of him. Although he consistently stayed at least two steps behind her, giving her plenty of space, Veronica could feel Logan's eyes on her ass. It was disconcerting. She felt stiff, almost awkward, at the thought. She'd thought that her physical response to being near him would have lessened over the years, but it was as strong as ever. Despite how hard she tried to concentrate on the dangers that might be waiting for them outside, she couldn't seem to get her mind off of where Logan Echolls' eyes were now trained. All she could think about was him.

God, he looked so unbelievably _good._ The internal battle she'd been fighting ever since seeing him the previous morning was slowly making her forget all the reasons that she'd stayed away from him in the first place. Everything about him was so…attractive, so… _Logan._ Veronica was becoming momentarily sidetracked by something that she wanted to attribute to mere nostalgia, but deep down she knew it was likely something more.

Questioning him back at the office had been…well; she'd always been more than versed on how to keep personal emotions out of business. And tonight was all about business. There was no time for her to notice things like how short Logan wore his hair now or the proud gait of his walk. She couldn't focus on his wince of pain when he'd sat down or how carefully he moved because of his injury.

She'd carefully schooled her features and avoided eye contact at all costs. She'd kept all inflection from her voice.

But inside she's been dying.

It was killing her to see how much he'd changed. It was selfish of her; she knew. But even knowing that she was being irrational wasn't enough to keep her from thinking about it.

Logan had loved Carrie. It was obvious by the impassioned way he'd spoken of his reasons for hiring a private investigator. Nothing short of love would have allowed Logan to approach Keith Mars. Veronica's father was the best, and Logan had wanted the job done discreetly and right.

It wasn't that Veronica begrudged Logan loving Carrie; that wasn't the issue at all. The issue was that Veronica had always had a very myopic of Neptune and everyone who belonged there. In her mind, everyone in Neptune had continued living much the same as they had when she'd left them nine years prior.

The evidence she'd collected worked in her favor. Her father was essentially the same. A nicer house, sure, but otherwise he was the same. Wallace was still playing basketball. Mac still toyed with computers. Hell, even Dick was the same ol' dick she'd left at Hearst. Knowing all that, adding Logan into the mix had been an innate continuation of that line of thinking. She'd naturally assumed that he would be up to the customary jackassery to which he'd always excelled. He'd always been too wrapped up in hate to have any room left over for love.

Even as that last thought flittered through her mind, Veronica flashed to a night in college during a rather heated exchange. Logan had proclaimed he loved her; she'd been stunned to silence.

Logan very much loved the idea of love; Veronica knew that. But she'd never let what he had declared as love to seep through her hardened shell. She'd never allowed him into the part of her that was completely hers; the part of her that no one had ever had access to ever since her sophomore year of high school.

But Carrie was someone that had let Logan in. Logan's startled look when Veronica had commented on his love for Carrie had been validation enough. Carrie had been very lucky to have his devotion. Logan had always had a protective streak, but this thing with Carrie was more than just protectiveness. It was love.

She drew herself out of her reverie as she came to the last few steps. She felt Logan's hand lightly touch her shoulder. "I think I should go first."

Wanting to laugh at the irony, she ignored his comment and reached for the handle of the door. "I'll go slow."

"I'm sure you will," Logan commented, his fingers unexpectedly covering hers on the handle, "But I think your father would tell you to let the chauvinistic pig get his comeuppance." He nudged her gently away. "I mean, what harm could come of letting me go first?"

It was the first they'd touched in over nine years, and the electric current was ridiculously intense. Veronica's breath caught in her throat, and she was ashamed of the disappointment she felt when he quickly he let go of her hand. She was supremely relieved at Logan's preoccupation with letting himself out of the door; somehow he hadn't been electrocuted like she had and she was thankful that he'd missed her appalling reaction.

The sunlight broke through as the door creaked slowly open.

*** Break***

He was in serious trouble. Logan kept his back to her; his prayers going up to any of the gods that she wouldn't see how hard his heart was racing. He could feel each beat at his throat, and he felt clammy at his ridiculous physical response to her. If she saw any weakness he'd be done for. She would never let him live it down if she thought, for one moment, that she could use her power over him.

And God help him.

Nine years had not been long enough for the power she wielded over him to be broken. He wondered how long it would take for her to figure it out. He was the product of two very talented actors. Coming off as aloof and uncaring was something he'd perfected at a very young age. But being around her made it evident how out of practice he was. No one else was worth the effort it took to act so indifferent.

He felt rusty. But alive at the same time.

Holy shit!Veronica Mars was here with him, in the flesh.

Sunlight broke flooded through the now open door, and his mind jumped back to the issue at hand. Screw his juvenile, hard-on response to Veronica's blue eyes and firm ass; there was an enemy close by that could be watching their every move. He didn't like that his injuries left him vulnerable. If something serious went down, the most he'd be able to do would be to push Veronica out of the way.

Carefully, Logan stepped out onto the shadowed side street. Veronica was close behind him, he realized with exasperation. She was all but stepping on his heels, her breath hot against his shoulder blades. Ignoring her closeness, Logan quickly took in their surroundings. The alleyway had dumpsters on either side of the doorway, both filled to capacity and with trash spilling over the sides. He crept passed them and looked each way. Seeing nothing, he stood up straighter and turned to look at Veronica.

He didn't even bother to whisper. "I think you're jumpy. And I still don't agree that we shouldn't have called the cops. Even if they are in on it, wouldn't it be better if they knew that we saw someone tampering with my car?"

Her cool blue gaze narrowed. "Jumpy, huh? Tell that to my father. " She then gestured at his injured shoulder. "And I suppose you think that your little memento here was due to someone's gun accidently going off while they cleaned it."

"Who knows?" Logan shrugged. "What's it to you, anyway?"

Something flickered across her face before it went blank. She broke their stare and nodded toward the back parking lot. "Humor me. At least walk me to my car. I can drop you off out front, like we planned."

***Break***

The back lot of Mars Investigations was a parking area for about six other businesses. It required a parking sticker but Veronica had yet to see a meter maid or security attendant verifying the cars. Today, there were only about ten or so cars in the space. She had parked near the middle of the lot, under a light pole; a habit she'd had since college. She was more than grateful that Logan had not argued with her request to accompany her there. She really was in no mood to beg him for anything.

They approached the car silently, side by side. Logan kept a fair distance between the two of them but Veronica could still smell a hint of his sandalwood aftershave. Determined at self-restraint, Veronica swept her eyes around the yard half expecting a masked man to jump out at them. She kept her arm against the lump under her jacket to confirm the gun's presence. Her arms were laden with bags, but that didn't mean she couldn't drop everything and grab the semi-auto in a pinch. It wouldn't be hard to choose the gun over paperwork.

"Do you think they tampered with your car, too?" Logan asked while Veronica unlocked the door.

"You left your car's top down. And you're being watched, not me. I think the Le Sabre is fine." She slid into the driver's seat and moved bags off the passenger seat. "Get in."

He moved around the front of the car and climbed in beside her.

***Break***

Veronica pulled around the corner of the building and parked behind Logan's convertible. As Logan opened the Le Sabre's passenger-side door to get out, Veronica leaned into the back seat to grab a camera. She then got out and followed him over to his car.

"Don't touch anything," Veronica warned as they neared, "See if you can tell if he took anything or what was tampered with."

He'd left his duffle in the back seat. Logan leaned over the car door to inspect it. "I don't see any difference." He reached down, nudging the bag lightly and froze. "Holy shit."

Veronica stepped up and peered around him. "What?"

"It's a timer."

Beside him, Veronica stiffened.

Below him, the timer ticked down from 00:02:00 to 00:01:59.

***Break***

Both of them bolted.

"Get in the car, get in the car!" Veronica screamed, slinging the camera strap high on her shoulder as she ran.

Less than a minute later, the Le Sabre barreled past Logan's blue BMW with Veronica behind the wheel. Veronica dimly registered how Logan was holding onto the dashboard with his good hand and was pressing his injured arm tightly against his chest as she put further distance between themselves and his car. She gave little thought to anything else around her.

A bomb was not something Veronica had any interest in fooling with. Not when it was ticking down quickly to zero and not when she had a strong suspicion of where it had come from. From the size of it, she didn't think it was large enough to hit or destroy any of the buildings nearby; it would only destroy the BMW and whoever happened to be in it. But she wouldn't stake her life on that supposition.

"What the hell did you see, Logan? Why are they so hell-bent on getting rid of you?" Veronica demanded, taking a corner at full speed.

From the force of the turn, Logan's body slid into the middle console. He righted himself but didn't say anything.

"I don't even know where to go!" She muttered under her breath in a panic. Her eyes darted from the road to the rearview mirror where she saw a white muscle car quickly gaining on them. Louder, she said, "Know anyone with a seventies-style Camaro?"

"Unfortunately Dick's tastes are a little richer than that." Logan looked behind them to see the car. His frown tightened to a straight line. "Turn left, up ahead. There's a tunnel not far away."

It was just as she'd maneuvered the car and gunned the throttle that they heard the blast. Their eyes connected for a shocked beat before Veronica focused on the road again. The tunnel was right ahead of them, just as Logan had promised.

"As soon as you come out of the tunnel, go left again and then take a hard right."

Veronica's mind barely processed his words but somehow obeyed his directions. The hard right was a very hard right and they skidded into an alleyway.

"Where the hell are we?"

"In the alley behind the 09er. Go slow. Cross the main section and head to the next alleyway, when you come through that alley, turn left and we can get to the freeway."

She slowed the car down to a crawl and approached the intersection warily. Seeing no traffic, Veronica gunned it across the road and into the next alleyway, relieved that no one was around.

They were through the alley all too quickly. "Now where?"

***Break***

The house wasn't overly grand, but it afforded privacy and anonymity when needed. Not for the first time, Logan was grateful for Carrie's forethought. The property she'd purchased in the near Big Bear was out of the way but close enough to L.A. for quick getaways and visits with her family. Right now, it offered everything that Logan and Veronica needed.

Veronica had become steadily quieter when he'd begun giving directions. Glad for the silence, Logan was able to concentrate and make sure he didn't get them lost. He'd only been to Carrie's vacation home a handful of times and he was slightly worried he might miss a turn somewhere. Logan had watched as Veronica drove with one eye on the rearview mirror. She hadn't let her guard down until he finally directed her to a gated road and given her the code to let them through. As they passed under the risen gate, she had glanced at him with a silent question in her eyes, but he'd kept his gaze straight ahead to the gravel road.

The road led them through thickening foliage to a clearing where the house was located. It was a large two-story Victorian-style house with blue siding and crisp-white shutters and edging. Logan remembered teasing Carrie when she'd bought it. He'd joked that her adoring fans would be appalled at her old-fashioned ways, but she'd merely shrugged and retorted, "Bonnie might not like it, but Carrie sure the hell does."

"Pull up to the back; there's a little garage that we can use." Logan told Veronica, brushing the memory of Carrie away. When she pulled in front of the garage door, Logan hopped out and strode to the door's keypad and punched in the code. Once the door was fully opened, Veronica pulled the car in and he lowered the garage door. As it closed, he let himself in through the man door and waited for her to get out of the car.

"Where are we?" Veronica asked as soon as she slammed the door shut. She gazed around the confines of the small garage.

"Carrie's country hideaway." Logan answered matter-of-factly, observing Veronica's expression closely. Her eyes connected with his briefly before she looked around at the pristinely kept garage.

"Well, we can't stay long; surely someone will come looking for us here." She strode over to look out of a tiny window above a gardening table. "It's only a matter of time."

"We have some time." Logan opened the man door again and waited for her to follow him. Starting across the driveway, he told her, "Carrie got tired of having all the paparazzi know where she was all the time. She hated that they harassed her family so much when they'd fly in to see her. They moved overseas a few years back and come to The States only to see her. She bought this place just over a year ago; it's pretty buried in paperwork. She wanted it as private as possible."

Logan stopped at the back door and opened the keypad and typed in a code. The door unlatched subtly and he smiled somberly at her. "Very few people know about this place."

"Gia and Luke?" Veronica asked, her voice low. "They can be bought, you know."

"Gia and Luke can go fuck themselves, they don't know shit." Logan said over his shoulder as he led her through a mudroom and into a cozy kitchen. "Carrie never had either of them come here; her parents couldn't stand Gia and therefore hated Luke by association."

Quizzically, Veronica queried faintly, "Oh?"

Logan gave her a small shrug. "I should have everyone vetted through the Bishops."

***Break***

Logan ignored her questioning look and flipped the lights on, illuminating the white cupboards and dark granite countertops. Veronica looked around at the immaculate kitchen as Logan moved away from her.

Various thoughts and emotions plagued Veronica throughout the drive. And it had been a long drive. The entire time, she'd been hyperaware of Logan sitting next to her in the passenger seat. They were literally running for their lives, and yet she kept finding herself glancing over at him as if to validate that he was really there. She'd made it seem like she was being cautious and watching out for someone following them, but it was really because her eyes kept gravitating toward him.

But even with all that covert glancing, Veronica was truly worried about her dad. A bomb going off at the steps of Mars Investigations and the subsequent car chase made her more aware of the danger that her father was actually in. The thought disturbed her. Keith was in a vulnerable position, lying prone in an induced coma at the hospital. Neptune was far away from Big Bear and far away from her.

She had to get back to him as soon as possible.

Thinking of Keith made her glad for the bag slung over her shoulder. It was filled with numerous technological devices. It was pure luck she'd had the forethought to pack up some of the items and bring them out to the car while she'd waited for Logan at MI. She wondered blindly if perhaps she'd had some sort of premonition. Years ago, she'd always had a sixth sense about these things; an intuition that told her to watch her back at all turns. Today, she'd been reminded of the validity of her old guardedness. Now, because of that, she had a bag full of burner phones. She set the bag on the island to unzip and pull out what she had packed.

Four cell phones, Keith's day planner and his laptop. She'd also thrown in a Galaxy tablet that she'd found buried in the bottom of one of the desk's drawers, underneath some random camera accessories. And there, at the very bottom of the bag, was a velvet bag that held a handful of bugs and the matching transmitter. She wasn't sure at the moment if she'd put those to any use, but everything else she'd packed had a purpose.

Keeping her hands busy was helping Veronica keep thoughts from veering to how weird it felt being in Carrie Bishop's country cottage. It obviously held memories for Logan, probably good ones at that. According to the tabloids, Logan and Carrie had been dating for close to two years. This place would have been a safe place for the two of them to spend private time together away from the limelight. Most likely they had spent many long weekends here.

Thinking of Logan with Carrie caused her to a shift in discomfort, and she clumsily dropped the velvet bag onto the tiled floor. Feeling foolish, Veronica bent to pick up the bag just as Logan lowered himself to grab it. He reached it first and Veronica's fingers, slow to react, curled over his instead of the bag.

She drew back as if burned, her feet grappling her backwards and she slammed into the kitchen counter behind her in her haste.

Obviously startled, Logan slowly stood up and set the small pouch onto the counter. She watched him swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing lightly, his brown eyes questioning as he met her gaze. He opened his mouth as if to say something but then he seemed to think better of it and clamped it shut. After a moment, he swallowed and finally said, "Should we try to call the hospital, you think?"

She wasn't expecting the question. Veronica let out a short laugh, glad for the distraction. "I think we should call Mac first."

"Well, then," he answered, motioning toward a hallway, "The office is this way; I'll leave you to it while I see what I can scrounge up for dinner. "

***Break***

 _Was I wrong to bring Veronica here?_

That question kept churning around in Logan's head, turning and turning, thus making all the other events from the past few hours and days fade into the background as unimportant. There hadn't been much time to think, not after the explosion and the resulting chase. He'd just directed and they'd ended up here.

Alone. Where no one could find them.

She had not looked very convinced when he'd explained that Carrie only brought family here. The truth was just that: none of their inner circle ever had been here. The house was reserved for herself and her family and was rarely used other than for privacy when her family came from overseas. Outside of the Bishops, only Logan had been privy to the purchase of this place. He'd even come with Carrie and the real estate agent when she'd first looked at it.

The tapping of Veronica's fingers on the computer reassured him. Since they'd walked in the door, Veronica had been skittish and jumpy. She'd been acting like a startled deer; her eyes darted around as if waiting for a ghost to jump out at her. Logan had no doubt that, if given the chance, she'd bolt. And maybe she should bolt. There hadn't been a direct threat to _her_ life, at least not when she wasn't around him.

 _Well, damn_ , Logan thought. _Here I go, putting her into danger like old times_. Why couldn't he seem to leave that habit of his in the past? But really, this didn't seem to be a battle that he had chosen to be a part of. He had been pulled in by circumstance and was one small part of it. The puzzle of it all was just that: fragments that had yet to be pieced together to form a clear picture. He felt like he was missing something big. But what?

Logan sighed as he pulled a can of chili from a cupboard and busied himself finding a can opener and pan. Good thing I'm not trying to impress her, he thought ruefully. There wasn't much hope for culinary creativity tonight.

He lit the burner and set the pan on top of it. An old-fashioned canister that held cooking utensils sat next to the stove, and Logan fished out a wooden spoon to stir the chili so that it heated up evenly. Satisfied that it wouldn't scorch, Logan lowered the temperature to the food simmer before stepping over to the fridge to see what it might hold.

It was surprisingly well stocked. There was a block of cheese, some locally bottled beer, an assortment of deli meat and a loaf of bread. Various bottles of condiments lined the inside of the door, and what looked to be some vegetables sat in the crisper along with some grapes in a plastic container.

For a moment, he worried about the possibly that someone had been squatting here without Carrie's knowledge, but he dismissed that theory almost immediately. Her parents had been in California for her funeral just last week and, surely, the grocery and cleaning services that Carrie had always paid for was still in full-effect. Carrie always had a thing about having food available here so that everything would be ready when she chose to come at the last minute. It meant that all the basic necessities were always taken care of so that she could drop everything and retreat to the country without the added stress of mundane chores like grocery shopping.

Logan kept on task, grabbing the grapes and vegetables out to wash and the block of cheese to slice. All the while, his thoughts drifted to the woman who was just down the hall from him.

There'd been an awkward moment between the two of them when she'd been unpacking, and Logan didn't know exactly what to think of it. It had been years since he'd spent any time with her, years since they'd touched even casually. This afternoon, confined to the car, even while worried about being followed, Logan couldn't deny the electrical charge that had been there. He'd felt it. But he'd told himself that it was a current of adrenaline created out of fear and chaos. Nothing else.

But just now, here, in the kitchen, when his hands had accidently skimmed hers, he'd felt it again, as potent as ever. And she'd reacted like she'd been struck by a bolt of lightning, skittering away from him as if she'd been burned. It had taken him by surprise. He was unused to seeing such raw emotion in her eyes, but what he'd see had been vulnerability. He told himself that she was feeling remorse at having left Neptune without her dad. Having been chased out of town was probably not enough of a reason for Veronica Mars to have left Keith Mars, yet she'd done it. She must feel terrible.

It was because of this that Logan had resolutely bypassed the awareness that sent blood flowing south. He'd disregarded the skip he'd felt in his heart when her eyes seemed to search his in that moment. He'd pretended that the jolt of awareness that shot up his legs hadn't left him breathless and aching to touch her in a way that left her no doubt of how she made him feel.

Irritated by the direction of his thoughts, Logan slammed cupboard doors open in search of bowls. Finding some, he pulled out two and ladled chili into each before setting a slice of cheese and some vegetables onto a plate for Veronica.

His arm was beginning to ache again. The gunshot wound felt tender to the touch and the muscles of his bicep felt every bit of the beating it had taken the night before. That and the constant ache where he'd smacked the back of his head were making him feel suddenly grouchy and short-tempered. He decided that it might be best to leave Veronica to her own devices for a bit longer while he went in search of ibuprofen and bandages; the exertion of the afternoon had caused the dressing to loosen. He shouldn't leave them that way for the night. The doctor had given him strict orders to inspect the wound every night to ensure there was no infection.

***break***

Veronica was reluctant to use her own phone and had made a point of turning it off along with Logan's as they drove out of the city. She was more than sure that whoever had blown Logan's car up would have the ability to track them quite easily through their cell phones. She didn't want to give anyone that chance.

Too many years had gone by since she'd worried about being tracked or followed. She'd felt rusty and sluggish, but dodging through alleyways and weaving in and out of traffic had quickly brought her back up to speed. She was grateful for the good friends who would help her and knew that she could count on them. It hadn't taken her long to get online and set up video chat with Mac. Mac, the ultimate guru of technology, had immediately answered Veronica's call and was now working to find Cliff McCormack. The plan was to get Keith's information sealed within the hospital and arrange for his transfer to a different hospital all together. If he could be moved, Veronica would feel more at ease and more comfortable about not being able to be there with him in Neptune. The unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach from not having even laid eyes on her father since he'd been attacked was quickly morphing into full-fledged panic. Some things were beyond her control but Veronica was reigning in what she could influence as quickly as she could.

At some point during the video chat, Logan had brought her food. He quickly disappeared before she could even thank him for it. Nibbling the now cold chili, Veronica jotted down everything that she could think of that might be relevant to the case. The case, she thought sourly. How could it be a case when lives were on the line?

Her dad's laptop sat open on the desk, the email she'd last accessed at the office still open. She read it over for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

Attached to the email was a second article about a drug dealer, Manny Rose, who had been caught, red-handed, selling drugs to an undercover police officer. When the article had been written, Manny had already made a plea of guilty, but had gotten a lighter sentence in exchange for ratting out two other dealers. Veronica had had to read both it and the article about the new buildings funded by Morrison more than once before she realized how they were connected.

It wasn't the words that held the clue, it was the pictures attached to each article. Amongst the faces in the crowd at the ground breaking was none other than Manny Rose. There were no names listed at the bottom of the picture or in the article itself, but Veronica recognized him.

Somehow Manny Rose was connected to the Sheriff's department. Was he working undercover? Could he be an informant? Or was it something much bigger?

She stared unblinking at the screen until she heard a clatter coming from somewhere within the house.

* * *

 **A/N Thanks again. If you have time, I'd love to read your thoughts in the form of a review. ;)** **I am going to change the rating to the whole story to M just to stay safe. I should have just put it as an M to begin with, so I apologize for not. Anyway, if you aren't following this story, and your filters aren't set for M you may need to look for it if you care to. Thanks.**


	6. Chapter 6 Alone

**A/N: Thank you everyone. This whole journey is always harder than the reader knows, I think. We writers have times of staring at the blank page before us, or deleting a whole chapter in the hopes that what is written next will be better or lead us to a better path...it's just an amazingly tough process. Thank you to Bondopoulos for putting up with me and my self doubts. You are an extraordinarily patient beta.**

* * *

Chapter 6

"Damn it all to fucking hell!" Logan snarled, violently ripping the new bandage away from his shoulder and flinging it onto the tiled bathroom floor. He'd been unsuccessful at changing it and was becoming irate at his failed attempts.

The scissors he'd found in the medicine cabinet had caused a great racket when they had fallen to the floor and things had gotten worse from that moment on. It irked him to feel so weak.

Logan was lucky, or so he'd been told; it had been a clean shot that went straight through the muscle. Unfortunately, the angle at which he'd been hit made it next to impossible for Logan to clearly see what needed bandaged. The flesh below the curve of his shoulder was red but not festered, that much he could see. But from his vantage point, the exit wound near the shoulder blade was too far to see clearly, let alone reach to bandage properly.

He'd have to ask for her help.

That was the last thing he wanted to do.

Shit.

The tapping on the bathroom door should have startled him but he had honestly been expecting it.

"Come in," he barked. His head dropped in defeat as he placed both hands on the cool granite countertop.

"Logan?"

He heard her turn the doorknob and then the soft padding of her feet as she came closer. He didn't look up.

Her fingertips felt cool and light on his skin as they skimmed around the exit wound at his shoulder. He flinched in surprise. He hadn't felt her touch on him for so long that he had to physically tighten his hold on the countertop to keep himself from spinning around and sweeping her into his arms, to hell with the consequences.

She dropped her hand.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt you?" When he didn't respond, she asked, "Do you need some help?" Logan slowly raised his head and met her eyes in the mirror for only the briefest of moments before she dropped her gaze down to his shoulder, her face an unreadable mask. "It's not red; do you have some medicine to put on it?"

His lips couldn't seem to form any kind of answer, but she seemed to instinctively understand what needed to be done. The salve sat on the countertop next to his hand and the gauze rested at his feet. Veronica picked up the tube of medicine and began the intimate task of rubbing ointment on and around his angry wound seemingly as impersonally as possible. The tender way she touched him caused him to grind his teeth; it took all his willpower to keep himself still. Logan kept his eyes fixed on the faucet, trying and failing, not to think of other times she had mended his wounds.

**** _Flashback***_

 _It had been a very stupid thing he'd done. Veronica's eyes flashed angrily as she ran to him and helped drag him out of the water and up onto the sand. Logan didn't usually mind when he'd done something to warrant the flash of anger he saw in her eyes because he knew how quickly it could turn into a look of complete, unbridled heat. The burning at his back, however, was making him regret the flip he'd made and more so the fact that he hadn't stuck his landing._

 _Damn._

 _But damn, those flashing sapphires. She'd always be his siren._

 _"Are you all right?" Her words came at him in short bursts from the exertion of running the distance from where she'd been perched further up on the sand. "That was a hard fall."_

 _His chuckle came out more like a moan. "Yeah, it wasn't exactly what I'd call pleasant."_

 _Together they unzipped his suit and peeled off the arms so that she could inspect the damage. Her fingers lightly ran the length of his back, searching for injuries. They slowed at the swell of his ass and he abruptly forgot about pain when her hand dipped down to squeeze him there._

 _He swayed his back into her so that her breasts pressed deliciously into his back and she adjusted so that her hands ran down the front of his chest now. He closed his eyes before turning around to face her, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her into him. He dipped down and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm a masochist, though, what can I say?" His hands drifted down to cup her ass and pressed her against him, enjoying the way her eyes dilated from the contact. "Do you like a little bit of pain…I hear pleasure is on the other side?"_

 _"Hmm, pleasure, huh?" Veronica pressed back this time, and Logan growled. She smiled in victory._

 _"You're killing me, woman," He told her, dipping his head to nip her neck, injury forgotten._

 _****End Flashback***_

Veronica couldn't breathe.

Why in the hell had she let herself volunteer to bandage Logan? A shirtless Logan, no less.

She desperately tried to concentrate on his wound rather than notice how well Logan had turned from boy to man. Regardless of the network of almost translucent striped scars that lined his back, he still was a magnificent creature.

The problem was that the room was too small, the air was too dense, and Logan was too male.

That was all this was.

It didn't have anything to do with the fact that it was Logan. Not at all. Nope.

She finished applying the square bandage and then, with a sinking feeling, realized that she should check the entry wound as well. He must have been watching her actions in the mirror, because he turned to face her abruptly. The sudden movement jostled her and Logan reached out with his good arm to steady her.

She felt his eyes on her but she determinedly kept her eyes on his injury. She didn't let herself react at the sight of his chiseled chest, or the way the nipple closest to her pebbled into a small, perfect bead. Or how much his flat stomach had become more toned in the past nine years.

Although she'd taken great care to not once look up into his face it didn't mean she couldn't sense how still he kept his body or how tightly he grasped the counter.

She ignored the catch in her chest and her erratic breathing and resolutely forced her trembling fingers keep at their work until his wound was properly dressed. Her task complete, she was able to step away from him, and her hands dropped to her sides in silent triumph. Rolling her lips inward, Veronica backed closer to the door. "There. That should keep for the night. Hopefully we can regroup in the morning and figure out what to do next. I don't know…" she trailed off, feeling idiotic. "Mac is working out a plan."

"Mac?" Logan echoed. "Since when have you ever let someone make your plans for you?"

"Since someone planted a bomb in your car." She fumbled with the doorknob and stepped out into the hall. Not trusting herself to look at him again, she said over her shoulder, "That reminds me, I want to see if the explosion was reported. I need to hear what spin the media puts on this." She started out into the hall. "I'll go find the television. Get dressed." She felt positively spineless. She knew that she was running away from him, but she couldn't seem to muster up any courage to ask if he needed more help.

***Break***

He was feeling like a first class coward. The feel of her fingers on him had been almost unbearable, but instead of kissing her like he so wanted to do, Logan had kept up with her pretense that everything was normal. He'd ignored the electricity in the air between them. He'd let her think that he hadn't noticed the way her fingers had trembled when they'd come into contact with skin and how she kept biting her top lip in concentration.

But then he'd pretended, too. He'd pretended that he hadn't noticed the light dusting of freckles on the bridge of her nose that hadn't been there in college or how blue her eyes still were. He'd pretended that the whisper of her breath on his skin hadn't made him taut with desire and he pretended that the fire in his belly was a result of his injury instead of from her touch.

And then he'd just let her run away while he'd stood there, feeling like an ass.

Maybe her reaction to him was all in his head, her reaction to him. Nine years had passed, after all. It'd been longer still since they'd been together. The torch he'd always carried for her had had many chances to flicker out and yet he still felt an ember of it flickering back to life. But he'd never been one to press his advantage with her and tonight would be no exception.

Plus, he felt like shit.

He needed to find a bed, crawl in it, and sleep for as many hours as he could manage.

Stifling a sigh, Logan cleaned up the bathroom before heading out to find Veronica. He needed to show her to a room and make sure to lock up for the night before he could let himself succumb to the one temptation that he _could_ partake in. Sleep.

***break***

The media had only gotten part of the story right. According to the news anchor, the explosion had been the result of a faulty gas line. There'd been no mention of Logan's car or even his name.

That was a blessing.

The other blessing was that no one had been injured in the blast. Veronica hadn't even realized how worried she'd actually been about that possibility until it was ruled out. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Mac had promised to call Veronica from an untraceable number as soon as she could. Veronica kept the burner phone close to her in anticipation. It wasn't going to be hard to keep in contact with Mac, Veronica knew. Keith had hired Mac throughout the years as a tech consultant; she knew the drill.

The hard part was going to be staying away from all the action. Veronica couldn't leave her dad alone in the shark infested water that was Neptune. His safety was more important than hers, but she had to at least figure out what they were dealing with before she went back to Neptune with guns blazing. She wouldn't be any help to anyone if she didn't know all the facts and have a plan.

The phone in her hand rang and she answered it after the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"It's Cliff."

"That was fast."

"Ms. Mackenzie didn't give me much choice and she's quite persuasive," Cliff answered drily. Moving on, he told her, "I tried to visit your dad but they aren't allowing him to have visitors yet."

Veronica's grasp on the small phone tightened. "I don't think they will for a while. I need you to see to it that no one gets near him. Period."

"I should be able to get that done. New name?"

"New name, new hospital…the works, Cliffie, the works."

"Feels good to get back to basics, doesn't it V?" The baritone voice teased. "It's been too many boring years just working for Mars, Investigations. I think the new shingle should read, 'Mars y Mija.'"

"Haha, Cliffie. The shingle won't be changing any more than the numbers of the employees will. Just take care of my dad."

"I work my magic best when alone." He coughed. "Consider it done."

"My own personal Magic Man. Thanks, Cliffie." She paused. "One last thing…"

"Yeah, V?"

"It's good to hear your voice. Thanks again."

***Break***

Logan entered the room and where Veronica sat watching the news. He sat down in an ottoman and silently brooded while he waited for the news report to wrap up. She didn't miss the clenching of his jaw when a recap of the 'incident' played at the end of the hour or the careful way he sat back against the chair. He obviously didn't feel well.

Once the news wrapped up, Logan stood up and motioned for her to follow him and he led her down the hallway to a staircase. As they started up the stairs, he said, "You can take the guest room; it's the first door on your right. There should be a closet full of clothes. The last time I was here, there was, anyway. Feel free to use whatever you need."

When he opened the door, she was surprised. Truthfully, the whole house itself astonished Veronica, but the large guest room was the most unexpected of all. It had very few modern touches and reminded her more of a place from the past than in the present.

He showed her the room and made sure that there were towels in the bathroom for her before making his exit. A t the door he turned back. "Do you think I'll be able to go back soon? You can…you know, leave me here, or whatever. I don't think anyone believes you witnessed anything."

"Never leave your comrades, right?" Veronica quipped, a half-smile playing at her lips. "Do you think I would leave you in the midst of all this mess?" The second that the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. She saw his answer, plainly in his eyes. _Yes,_ his eyes were saying, _yes, you would leave me in a mess, and you did._ She blinked away his silent answer and tipped her head to the side and changed the subject. "Cliff is working on locking down the hospital. Mac is helping. She's working on getting us a different car."

"And how do you propose we pick up said car?"

She brushed his argument aside, saying, "That's a matter for another time. I'm not worried yet. If we can get a different car we can get back to the civilization and I can get back to see Dad."

He gave her a penetrating look and said insistently, "You can leave. Please. I refuse to keep you from Keith."

"Logan." Veronica returned his stare. "Whoever chased us knows I'm with you…knows, at the very least, that I'm a witness to the attempt on your life. Just…don't worry about me. At least not yet."

They parted then, him to his room and Veronica into the recesses of hers. All the while she was highly aware of his presence just down the hall.

Veronica also was painfully aware that she was hiding out in Carrie Bishop's secret vacation home. How often had Logan and Carrie come here for a romantic weekend together? A secret tryst where no one knew where or how to find them.

Veronica readied herself for bed, washing her face and reluctantly rooting through an old oak dresser drawer to find something to sleep in. She was chagrined when all she found was a rather flimsy nightgown, obviously meant for hot summer nights. Its straps were made of a fine cream lace and the bodice was about knee length in a lovely pale pink color. She fingered the silky material, lost in thought.

Had this been Carrie's? Had Logan given it to her? Had Logan…taken it off of her?

Veronica was ashamed at the flare of jealousy that coursed through her. Why should she be _jealous_ of a dead woman? It wasn't as if Veronica had any claim on Logan.

Pushing all thoughts on the subject firmly out of her mind, Veronica changed into the nightgown and crawled into the bed, glad for the warmth the sheets gave her. They must have been three-thousand thread count, she thought, nothing had ever felt so soft on her skin.

She curled up and fell asleep.

**break**

 _The gasping was what woke her. She fumbled out of the bed and made her way to the door, searching blindly in the darkness. Through the door she went, stumbling into a dimly lit room that housed a large bed with two writhing forms beneath a thick comforter._

 _This isn't right, she thought. She shouldn't be here. She turned to go, but as she did, she found that she only came to fully face the bed and couldn't help but stare straight at it. Dark chestnut hair was splayed out across the pillow. Veronica couldn't see the woman's face, but she knew who it was._

 _Carrie._

 _Carrie's fingers were entwined in her lover's hair, their writhing bodies moving in a rhythm that only coupling had. Veronica watched in fascinated horror as Carrie heaved her body up and into the man above her, her milky neck exposed in her ecstasy. The man's arms were propping himself up, his back glistening sweat in the moon light. Veronica stared at the back of his head, captivated by his perfectly cut hair. Her eyes ran the length of his bare back, noting the beautifully molded muscles beneath a familiar stretch of lightly-scarred skin. Like a well-travelled road, Veronica knew it by heart, every curve and jagged edge._

 _Unable to stop herself, Veronica reached out to trace one of those very lines; one that started just under a shoulder-blade and ran the length of his back, where it dipped down near his buttocks. She stopped just short of the swell of it just as Logan stopped his methodic pumping to let out a cry of release so passionate that it shattered the night. Beneath him, Carrie cried out with her own release. Above them both, Veronica's hand stilled on Logan's marred back, the demons of both their pasts still written out on his body even after all these years._

 _She let out a sob of anguish as she searched for some kind of release as well, but, finding none…_

 _Woke._

Her eyes popped open; her heart beat wildly in her throat. She searched the room, desperate to get her bearings. Veronica was glad for the shroud of darkness and the stillness that was this wooded fortress, far away from the world and reality.

She was more than grateful that she hadn't called out or made enough noise to startle Logan awake. The last thing she needed was for him to come running. She couldn't handle seeing him right now. The dream had left her feeling hot and strangely unsatisfied; the scene she'd just witnessed in her dream left her feeling like a voyeur.

The covers that had been so inviting and warm a few hours before now felt stifling. She threw them off of her. It wasn't time to get up yet; the clock on the nightstand only said four a.m. but it felt later. She was probably still adjusting to the time difference.

Restless, Veronica got up and found the robe she'd seen hanging on the door earlier. She wrapped it around her before she padded down the stairs to the office she'd been using. She wondered how much Cliff and Mac would get done now that it was the weekend. She turned the computer on and waited for it to boot up.

She was awake now, so she might as well work.

****Break***

Logan was irritated to note that when he woke up, it was not because of the light streaming through the window onto his bed. He'd woken up because his traitorous mind had been dreaming illicit dreams of a certain blonde.

In his dream, Logan had managed to undo the button of her jeans and flip her over to her back. She was sighing out his name as he licked his way up to kiss her mouth. That was when he'd turned in his sleep just enough to wrench his injured arm in an ungodly twist that shot shards of pain off in all directions. His eyes popped open and he'd groaned in both agony and arousal.

The alarm clock on the night stand read eight a.m. He slowly sat up and carefully stretched to ease the soreness in his neck and shoulders before he quickly downed some pain pills that sat on the night stand. Knowing that he wouldn't have the energy for a full-blown run, Logan decided on a walk after taking great pains to dismiss how old the word "walk" made him feel. The only way to bounce back quickly from an injury was to not let pride get in the way of the healing.

He stood and made his way to the bathroom, his mind fixated on a comment Veronica had made the night before. Were they were actually safe here? During the night it had occurred to Logan that he knew how to find that out. When Carrie purchased the house, she'd spoken with Logan about hiring a security firm. They'd gone over her options together. Ultimately, he'd referred her to a retired Navy friend who had opened his own remote security company that specialized in residential homes.

Thomas 'Bunk' Bunkle had worked for the Air Traffic Control when Logan was in training, and the two of them had quickly become close. A few years later, when Bunk had retired and moved out of state, Logan had felt the loss of his friend acutely. When Bunk had opened his own security firm, he'd offered Logan a position. Logan had toyed with the idea for a good while; it was a tempting offer. But, in the end, he hadn't been quite ready to leave the Navy or to move to Seattle. Logan had never been a big fan of rain. Odds were he'd be a lifer in the Navy anyway, but Logan liked the idea of working for Bunk, even if would probably never happen.

He was surprised that he hadn't automatically thought of calling Bunk last night when he and Veronica had arrived at Big Bear. Perhaps his time alone with Veronica had made his brain too fuddled and murky to think of anything else. But Veronica's comment about safety had got him thinking, and it was time to call Bunk for help. Not only could Bunk keep the two of them safe here in Carrie's house, there was a high probability Bunk could get Keith safely out of Neptune. Logan would stake his life on it.

****Break***

Once ready for the day, Logan crept down the hall, careful to not wake Veronica. But when he passed her half-open bedroom door, he realized she was already up. He quickened his pace to the main floor. As he made his way through the hallway, he stopped at the entryway of the living room when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Veronica stood with her back to him, staring at the bookshelf. If she heard him, she gave no indication.

She wore a light-pink silk night gown that hit mid-thigh with one thin strap loosely hanging off the edge of her shoulder. Her hair was mussed from sleep and cascaded freely down her back. Without even realizing it, Logan found himself stepping into the room, but thought better of it and turned quickly back into the hallway and away from her.

Planting one foot in front of the other, he forced himself to retreat to the kitchen and pulled one of the burner phones out of Veronica's bag. Then he headed out of the house, squinting into the brightness of the sun as he started down the long drive they had driven up the night before. Cautiously, he walked the length of the road back to the gate, keeping watch for any unexpected movement or noise.

***Break***

Veronica heard the back door slam and just barely kept herself from jumping. Her attention was riveted on all the pictures in the living room. She'd started with the one of Carrie with her family that sat on a side table and had made her way around the room. She was now inspecting each picture on a tall bookshelf.

Out of more than a dozen photos, none were of Logan. Not a single one.

There were about eight or so of Susan Knight, however. Susan, Veronica recalled, had been Carrie's best friend in high school. There were a many pictures from Bonnie DeVille concerts; high quality photographs that hinted of being professionally taken.

But there were none of Logan.

How long had that article said Logan and Carrie had been together? She thought that she recalled reading in the magazine saying two years. Certainly a two year relationship would garner at least one photo? Especially here, in their personal space?

She thought back to the night before when Logan had directed her to Carrie's house. He'd had to think which way to turn and how far to go. It was almost as if he hadn't made the drive often. When he'd shown her to the guest room, he hadn't been sure of the placement of some of the things. He'd even seemed a little surprised at some of the items they'd found. At the time Veronica had dismissed it as Logan being a typical man who didn't notice details.

But if memory served her right, Logan was a details kind of guy.

What the hell was going on?

***Break***

"Integral Security."

The deep voice was familiar and Logan grinned. "Bunk. It's Echo."

"Echo? What's up, my man?" Logan could hear the smile softening Bunk's deep voice. "You flyin', boy, or are you lookin' for work?"

The short chuckle came out strangled. "Neither, Asshole."

"Really." There was a pregnant pause. "Hold on."

A few minutes went by before Bunk came back on the line. "We're secure. What's going on?"

"Are you still doing security on Carrie Bishop's vacation house in Big Bear?"

"I watched you come in through the gate last night, if that's what you're asking. You know all the codes and you still have clearance, so I bypassed the security call to the estate last night. With everything going on with her death and all, I didn't want to disturb you. But, truth is, we just got the notice to stop all measures. Her estate hasn't taken care of the all of the details, but the contract actually expired at midnight last night."

"What exactly expired?"

"Uh…let's see." There was clicking in the background. "Yeah, activity in and out of the gate and some remote cameras have been switched off…and of course, the home alarm system."

"And all of that's been off for what, eight, nine hours?"

"Mmm, give or take. Since it's all computerized, it should have been midnight right on the nose."

"How much trouble it be to turn that all back on?" Logan inquired; looking up at a camera perched at the top of the gate.

***Break***

A phone was ringing when Logan stepped back into the house two hours later. From down the hall, he heard Veronica's voice murmur an answer. The slam of the office door muffled her voice and Logan took the hint. She hadn't change so much that he couldn't tell when she was in investigation mode. She would be holed up in the office like a fox in her lair, waiting for the right time to go back to Neptune and pounce.

Logan felt the need to keep busy and looked around the kitchen aimlessly, wondering what he could do be helpful.

There was a Kuerig machine with an array of coffee pods sitting on the counter, so he made himself a cup of coffee. He rooted around in the fridge for something to eat and settled on toast. After a moment's thought, he put a second slice in the toaster and brewed a second cup of coffee and then headed down the hall to the office. Juggling the items in his hands, he knocked on the door.

Her curt, "Come in," in response to his knock was all the encouragement he needed and gingerly he opened the door.

Veronica, now fully dressed, stood staring out the window at the wooded scenery outside. She was still on the phone. She barely acknowledged him when he set the coffee cup on the desk.

Into the phone, Veronica chirped, "No, I didn't see that…really? That's great." A pause. "Well, my professor will thank you! No, Criminology isn't what it used to be, but those pesky culprits sure haven't changed much over the years!" she chortled, running a hand through her ponytail. "One last question…how much does your office feel drug-trafficking has grown in the past, oh , I don't know, say, ten years in Neptune?" The high inflection of her voice was strained. "Really? That much? And you've determined that mostly small-time dealers have caused that much growth?"

Logan's gaze sharpened on her stricken expression. Her hand tightened on the phone. "No. No. It's just interesting, that's all. Thank you for your time." With that, she ended the call. She turned to look at him. "You don't happen to know a drug dealer, do you?"

***Break***

His insulted expression made her sorry she'd said it at all. She brushed past him. "Relax, I was joking."

"But you _do_ think I'd know one because since Carrie was into drugs? Because _she_ was a coke-head, _I_ must be one, too, right?" His tenor was harsh. "God, Veronica, do you really think so little of me?"

She whipped around to glare at him. "I don't think I know you at all, actually. What have you been up to for the past decade?"

"Not shooting up, thank you very much," he ground out, his lips barely moving. "If you think the Navy just looks the other way while their pilots get high, you have no pride for this country." He stepped closer and gave her a hard stare. "The Navy would have had me out on my ass so fast…" He blinked and turned away from her to look out the window. In a calmer tone, he said, "But, yeah, one thing is for sure. Carrie did dabble in drugs, but just a bit. She seemed to be using less and less recently, but…sometimes she'd get them from Sean. Sean Friedrich."

"Sean." Veronica repeated nostalgically, unsurprised by the revelation. "Oh, how the fallen have stayed down. He never moved up in the world after high school?"

Logan glanced sharply at her. "He's always been a bit of a user. Nothing's changed."

"A _bit_ of a user?" Veronica crossed her arms in disbelief. "How could you stay friends with someone like him? After he stole all that of money from you all those years ago? He, who let the PCHers assume the worst and go after all of his friends over something he did!" She narrowed her eyes. "You should be grateful Weevil played nice that night."

Logan turned around to glare back at her full on. "I never said Sean was my friend, Veronica. And if you care to remember, he stopped being my _friend_ after you proved he was a fraud and a fake at that poker game."

"So I just suppose you turned a blind eye on Carrie's dealings with him? How could you let her even get near him when you _knew_ what he's about?" Veronica pushed, uncaring of the anger flashing in Logan's eyes. "What happened to your protectiveness? You would never have approved of _me_ consorting with someone like that."

"No, goddamn it. I wouldn't have wanted you anywhere near him!" he lashed out. "But it wouldn't have stopped you! What makes you think Carrie was any different?" She flinched when he slammed his coffee cup down on the desk. "You think that I had a leash on her? That I had any fucking control over anything she did? When have I ever been able to control of anyone? Not Lilly. Not you. Not anybody ever! Carrie never wanted to be leashed! And I never wanted to leash her!" He stepped closer to her and pointed at her, emphasizing his level of anger, his voice steadily rising. "You assume too much, Veronica. You don't know anything, so stop acting like you know more than you do." With that, Logan dropped his hand and stepped back, breathing hard. "I don't want to talk about what I did or did not let Carrie do. It's irrelevant. If you need a drug dealer, Sean's the only connection I have to one. But I don't know how you expect to find him when we're more than two hours from Neptune, not to mention the fact that every cop there is probably looking for us."

"Well…" Veronica said, slowly edging her way to the desk's leather chair to sit down. Suddenly feeling cowardly, she kept her eyes locked on the pad of paper that she'd been taking notes on all morning. She knew that his anger was warranted and that she'd deserved more than what he'd given, but she wouldn't admit it to him. Not now, not ever. She cleared her throat. "Tonight's the big reunion. I don't know how into 'pirate pride' Sean is, but if memory serves, 09ers like to party. He could make a mint. It wouldn't be hard to find out if he's there, and if he is, we could have someone approach him, looking to score."

"Like who?" he asked flatly.

* * *

 **A/N: Please Review if you have the time. Thank you for taking the time to read this and follows/favorites. Thank you for your reviews. I love knowing what you think!**


	7. Chapter 7 The Veronica Whisperer

**A/N: Thanks for your continued interest in this story. This chapter marks the beginning of the MaDi, which I believe some of you have been eagerly awaiting. And some of you maybe not so. But...it's here, it's more than I planned, and I won't be taking it out or adjusting what the characters are telling me to do. I hope you enjoy it. AND...I hope you enjoy my own original character that I am a bit obsessive about (just ask Bondopoulos, she knows.)I really hope you like him as much as I do. Also, hu** **ge thanks to Bondopoulos for her hard work at the Betaing of this story. I'm working hard to repay my debt to you.**

Chapter 7 The Veronica Whisperer

* * *

Damn Veronica and her crazy schemes.

The second set of knocks on her door was more persistent than the first. Standing up, Mac checked her reflection nervously and then looked at the clock on the wall.

Right on time.

She heaved a sigh and made her way to the front door of her apartment. Peeking through the peephole, Mac saw Dick Casablancas standing outside, waiting to be let in.

 _Time to let in the Big Bad Wolf. No sense in waiting,_ she thought as she opened the door, _he knows you're here. He won't leave_.

Tall and lean, Dick had changed little since college. He wore his hair shorter now, but he still favored board shorts and t-shirts with idiotic phrases. The one he wore today had a picture of Big Foot holding a six-pack with the caption, "Big Foot is my Stunt Double." Sunglasses perched on the top of his head and he had a laptop case tucked under his arm.

His eyes swept the length of her body, and then met her stare. She gulped, feeling the heat that she always felt when he looked at her. Deciding that denying the existence of such feelings was safest, Mac stepped to the side of the door to let him through, and said, "You got the memo, too, huh?"

"'Yeah, I guess so. Did they happen to tell you where they're shacked up?" He queried as he stepped in from outside.

Dick's enormous presence made Mac's little apartment felt even smaller. The modest entryway was wide enough for two people, but he made no effort to move when Mac shut the door, which forced her to brush against him. When her shoulder hit into his arm lightly and her hip swayed dangerously closer to his body, she didn't even try to hold back the agitated glare she threw his way. She didn't trust his innocent smile.

"Well," she said, doing her best to ignore how shaky her voice sounded, "I'd think if they want you to know, you'd know, right?" She motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she told him, "They're somewhere safe, that's about as much as I know."

"Hunh. Sure didn't take Ronnie long to wrap her hands around Logan's balls. Poor Schmuck."

She should have known that she could count on Dick to piss her off right from the get-go.

They sat down at the table. Between them on the table sat her iPad and the small case that Dick had come to pick up.

"Have you talked to Sean yet?'

"We're meeting tonight at the reunion, yeah."

"Good. Did you bring the money so I can show you how this works?"

"Of course." Dick smiled and unzipped the laptop bag. "I'm being stealthy." He took out a stack of crisp twenty-dollar bills that were banded together with a bank-issued paper label. He slapped it down on the table and pulled out another stack, throwing it down beside the first. "Show me your magic, baby."

She reached over and grabbed the first stack. "It sure must be nice to have cash like this just sitting around."

"Well, this is Logan's investment. I'm just fronting the money till he gets back to town. But what's a little cash between friends when there's fun to be had?"

"Fun." Mac echoed. She opened the case on the table and pulled out a smaller glass container that looked like a clear jewelry box. Inside that, Mac took the attached tweezers and withdrew a minute microchip.

Dick eyed it with interest. "You always did have the fun toys."

She smiled, intent on her work. "I guess nothing's changed."

***Break***

Mac had spent the two hours before Dick arrived rushing to and from Kane Software to get the tracking devices and bugs that they would need. She'd had just enough time to install the necessary apps to her iPad and send the links to Veronica. What those two hours had not allowed time for, however, was any serious contemplation about Dick meeting her _here,_ in her home.

So it only made sense why at this very moment, Mac was feeling rattled and completely unprepared regarding how to deal with the tall Casablancas sitting at her kitchen table.

Mac shied away from making eye contact with him while she applied the microchip to the banded money. She found his unrelenting stare unnerving. She was pleased that he remained silent while she worked, but she was afraid that once she finished with the delicate task he'd try to talk to her in an attempt to soften her up. She wasn't willing to be softened, not ever again by Dick Casablancas.

She'd made that mistake once before and she wasn't about to ever again.

Finished, Mac slid the stack of money across the table toward him. "This should do it. Just use this as payment and he'll never know he's being tracked."

He nodded, fingering the stack. "You can't tell anything's in there."

"No; and that's the point." Mac grabbed the iPad and scrolled through its apps. "The tracker is attached to an app." She tapped an icon of a red-eyed rat, with its tail wrapped tightly above its ear, "I've already sent the link to Veronica, so she'll know exactly where the money is in real time." She handed the tablet to him. "You can see here that it's tracking the device right now. Since we want to follow the money and not just Sean, Veronica thought this would be the best way."

Actually, Mac had been the one to suggest it, but she didn't want Dick to know that. What Veronica had originally proposed was to track Sean's car only. Mac had had to remind Veronica that she'd been assigned to Kane Software's Covert Intelligence Department. Her division of the company had been testing various tracking devices and bugs for the government for years now. There were many prototypes at Kane's Software's lab that were left forgotten or, despite being top-of-the-line for Joe Consumer, were already considered obsolete to its developers. The microchip she'd 'borrowed' from the lab was one of many lying around that had been tested and tossed. It wouldn't be missed.

Veronica had been elated at the prospect of following the money exactly where it went. And Mac had been eager to help. But that was before Veronica had enlightened Mac that it would be Dick to make the deal with Sean, and that they would have to work together. Mac had felt her eagerness flit away that very moment as dread blasted her full-force. But she'd readily agreed; she knew what was on the line and how dire the situation was. There was no room for Mac to use her own emotional baggage as a reason to opt-out.

"Cool," Dick said, bending over the iPad to get a better look as he tapped through the app's options. "Did you come up with this thing?"

"Uh…" Mac blinked. "I was on the team, yeah." She reached over and grabbed the tablet out of his hands, swiping closed the menus that he'd inadvertently opened. "But you don't need to worry about that part. Just make sure that stack of money leaves with Sean."

"Don't you worry about Friedrich. I promised him green; he won't be leaving without it. My question is: what next? What if he skips out to Vegas and bets it all on some boxing match?"

"We know that Sean isn't conjuring drugs out of his ass," Mac countered, "Correct me if I'm wrong, but, if memory serves, both you and Sean failed high school chemistry. He has someone supplying him with the drugs, and that someone is going to want their cut."

"You remember how I did in Chemistry?" Dick pressed a hand to his chest. "Be still my beating heart."

"It was kind of hard to miss your exam stuck to the fridge with the bright red 'D' plastered on the top of the page."

"Ah, yes, I forget how you and Beav used to revel in my failures," Dick said wistfully, "He had that one laminated."

Mac looked at Dick sharply. "Well, the point is that Sean is the middle man. If you imply that you'll be a repeat customer, he'll take that news straight to the top of the food chain. Mark my words."

"Done deal, man. I'm his new biggest client."

"Excellent. While you're schmoozing with him, I'll throw a tracker on his car. And," she held up a small wire, "You'll go in wearing this."

Dick took the little microphone and held it between two fingers. "Covert. Nice. I like it. Are you and I gonna meet up later for little one-on-one time? Make sure the deed is done… maybe do a little deed doin' of our own?" He waggled his eyebrows. "People might talk if we don't play this just right, you know."

"And that matters why?"

"Come on, Mackie, you know no one will believe that you and me are just there catching up on old times." Dick rapped his knuckles on the table. "We weren't exactly chummy back in the day. _But_ …your hot little self," his eyebrows jumped up and down flirtatiously. "No one would suspect if I chased your tail for a little piece of that."

She bit back her laugh at his nerve and audacity. "Dick, stop being crass."

"What? You know it's true! You and me, baby! Come on!" When she didn't respond, Dick said a bit more seriously, "If we don't make some kind of a plan, and people see me in the corner with you, a known friend to Veronica Mars…I don't know, but to me that seems like what they call a 'conflict of interest.'" He said the last bit with air-quotes and then sat back and crossed his arms as he looked at her with a satisfied grin.

She hated that he was right. She stared at his cocky grin, so sure of himself. Well, frak.

***BREAK***

A fence had been erected around the entire perimeter of Carrie's property. Logan walked the length of it, double checking for any weakness. He was reassured when he found that every inch of it in good working order. The check had taken him more than two hours, but he wished it would have taken even longer. He'd needed to get out of the house and away from the temptation to throttle Veronica.

He didn't know how much longer he could handle Veronica's prickliness. Her defensiveness was getting on his nerves. The questioning and prodding about Carrie had only been the beginning.

 _***Flashback***_

 _He stared at her, mentally willing her to quit interrogating him about Carrie. He couldn't go there with Veronica, not yet. It wasn't any of her business anyway._

 _In an effort to change the subject, Logan said, "I talked to the security company that is the contracted to protect this place."_

 _She folded her arms. "Security company?"_

 _"Yes," Logan said slowly, ignoring her frown. "Security. The company that monitors the gate, the house, the property. Security."_

 _"What did they say?"_

 _"Actually, I know the owner. I worked with him a few years ago, in the Navy."_

 _"You know him? Is that safe?"_

 _Logan's hackles rose along with his voice, "Veronica, not everyone I know is a murdering, conniving ass hole! Bunk is perfectly safe!"_

 _"Bunk?" She repeated. "If you gave away our location he sure as hell had better be a lot more than just 'safe'!"_

 _"I wouldn't have called him if I didn't trust him, Veronica. His firm is reputable and he's already on his way."_

 _"His way? Here? Why would you do that?" She demanded, alarm and distrust etched on her face. "How do you know that he can be trusted?"_

 _**END FLASHBACK***_

Instead of calming her, the information had only managed to stir her up even more. Logan had grown frustrated with her cynicism.

Her words burned at him. It was just as much Logan's life on the line here as it was hers and Keith's, and yet she still had the audacity to imply that his judgment was subpar. He'd stormed out of the house without another word and set off through the woods in search of the fence. He couldn't look at her one second longer.

Nine years had passed and she was still as controlling as ever. It was as if she was intent on not trusting anyone besides Mac and Cliff. Logan had only been able to talk her into getting Dick involved because Sean wouldn't question Dick's request for drugs. Sean wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree but to have someone like Mac approach him would be a red flag. Dick, on the other hand, whose inner circle had come to Sean for product regularly anyway and whose inner circle had been significantly reduced in number over the past month…well, Logan was pretty sure that Sean would fall for the ruse. Veronica had reluctantly agreed.

Currently, Logan was making his way up a wooded incline toward the house. His arm was beginning to ache again and so was his head. He could see Veronica out on the porch, swinging slowly on the swing. From this distance, she looked serene and calm, but Logan knew better. For her, being stuck in this house was like sitting idle, with so much going on out of her control. It was likely driving her crazy. He was glad that she'd taken some time to relax, though. Maybe it would do her some good.

It was mid-afternoon now; Bunk would arrive in a few short hours. Perhaps by then she would have simmered down enough to be civil to his friend.

Drawing closer, Logan wondered what he could say to her that wouldn't lead to a shouting match. They both were on edge and itching for a fight. His injured arm and head were making him short-tempered and irritable; he knew that without a doubt. He felt badly about it, but being in pain, on top of having to defend himself constantly was draining. He had no energy left to be kinder to her if she wasn't willing to at least meet him half way.

***BREAK***

Veronica was frustrated that she couldn't be with her dad. Cliff had called to confirm of the name change on Keith's records, but the hospital would not allow Keith to be moved at this time. They'd informed Cliff that unless the building itself was burning down, Keith would have to remain there. Apparently, he was still too unstable.

Veronica wanted to be there to see that Keith was still alive with her own eyes. It killed her that she wasn't able to.

She was frustrated, too, that they were sending Mac and Dick on what felt like a blind mission.. But there wasn't much she could do about that; the two of them were in Neptune and they had the resources to get the job done. Mac had access to the surveillance equipment and Dick had the connection with Sean. It was too dangerous for Veronica to show up at the reunion. So instead, she was left as the puppeteer, pulling the strings from off-stage, forced to wait. There was no guarantee anyway that Sean would lead them to where they needed to end up

And to top it all off, she was stuck in a compound with freaking Logan Echolls. No amount of square footage was enough for her to forget it.

The only way she knew how to deal with it all was to lash out. Unfortunately for Logan, he was the only target within firing range.

She heard the snapping of feet on twigs and turned to see him approaching her now. She remained silent as she watched him trudge up the front porch steps and stop hesitantly in front of her. She knew what he was thinking: that she was still angry and he was right.

Hell, yes, she was angry.

"Have a nice stroll?" she enquired, her tone harsher than she intended. She cleared her throat and attempted sound more congenial. "You've been gone a while."

He quirked his eyebrows. He looked at her as if she were a bear about to pounce "Only as far as my feet would take me." When she raised her eyebrows in response, he explained, "I walked the perimeter of the property to make sure it's all fenced in; it is. Bunk said as much but I wanted to make sure."

" _Bunk_ said?"

"If you would have listened, you would know that Bunk's company is a top-notch security company, with clients that range from foreign dignitaries to lowly actors and actresses. His background in the Navy has made him very sought after. His reputation is impeccable, Veronica. He is known in the business for his discretion." The words came out quietly, but Veronica could hear the edge in his voice.

He was still mad about her for questioning this Bunk's trustworthiness.

Well, too damn bad. Her dad's life was on the line.

She really was in no mood to argue. She gnawed at the inside of her cheek to stop the snarky comeback that was on the tip of her tongue, and instead asked, "Are there neighbors close by? I couldn't see much last night."

"Not close by; Carrie chose this place for that reason. The properties are all pretty spread out."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I did a Google Earth search for this place…it's really hard to find. From overhead, you can't even see the house because it's so dense here."

Owlishly he blinked at her, face blank.

Grudgingly, she admitted, "This was a good place to hide."

"I can be trusted. What a concept," he remarked disparagingly before running his good hand through his hair. He began brushing the dust and leaves off of the front of his shirt. "I'm going in for a shower before Bunk gets here."

An image of Logan under the spray of water flashed through her mind without warning. She bit her lip. "Do…do you need me to bandage your shoulder better so it doesn't get wet?"

Logan looked tiredly down at his shoulder and blinked at it as if he'd forgotten about his injury. "Oh. No, that's all right. It's still pretty snug. I'll keep it out of the water."

 _Or I could just join you,_ a traitorous voice in her head suggested. Mortified by her own thoughts, Veronica fixed her eyes straight ahead at the scenery and pushed her feet back and forth to start up the swinging motion once again. _What the hell is wrong with you, Veronica? You've spent the whole day pissed at him, now you want to jump him?_ The reminder helped draw the anger back and she said, "I hope no one follows Bunk out here."

"He's not stupid, Veronica. No one's going to follow him."

"How do you _know_ for sure, Logan? This Bunk person doesn't even know what the hell is going on!"

"I've told him enough!" Logan's voice rose to match hers, "And I've told you enough! Bunk isn't going to lead anyone out here! Drop it." More calmly, he said, "Bunk might surprise you, Veronica. He's smart. He's careful. He's ex-Navy."

He left her then, stepping through the storm door and letting it slap loudly behind him before making his way through the house.

Veronica sat staring at the sky a long time.

***Break***

Bunk wasn't at all what she'd expected.

First of all, he was older than she had pictured, possibly older than her dad. Second of all, he was enormous, built like a tank, with short, tightly coiled black hair and kind brown eyes. He had an imposing air about him, but as soon as Logan introduced them, Bunk shook her hand and pulled her into him for an unexpected bear hug. Because he was massive, she was easily swallowed up in his arms.

"Bunk! Give her some breathing room!" Logan objected from the doorway.

Veronica couldn't keep a laugh from escaping when Bunk pulled back in mock chagrin. With a wink, he conspiratorially said to her, "Logan never used to like it when I stole the ladies out from under him. Not like it's hard to do, him being a such prude and all."

Logan's mouth opened to protest and Bunk raised a hand, "Now, Echo, don't even try to deny it."

"How can I deny something that isn't true, you delusional old man?"

"Ooh, delusional he says," Bunk said with a boisterous laugh, cuffing Logan on the shoulder. "I've seen this boy talkin' nonsense, and he says _I'm_ the delusional one?"

She looked at Logan to ask just what Bunk meant, but Bunk turned back to her and said, "Now, Veronica. I hate to cut right on past the chit-chat, but from what Logan told me about you, you don't like idle talk, anyway. Let's get down to the most important thing. Your dad."

At the mention of Keith, the fear that had put Veronica on edge all day immediately flared back to life. She frowned, folded her arms across her chest and stepped into the mouth of the hallway, away from both men. Carefully, tonelessly, she replied, "What about him?"

Logan leaned against the door, watching them, eyes hooded, with one foot propped behind him. He made no move to step between Bunk and her; in fact, he seemed frozen in the spot, as if waiting for a cue from one of them of how to proceed.

Veronica slid her eyes back to Bunk.

Bunk smiled; it was a kind smile that reached his eyes. There was a twinkle there that only kind people seemed to have,. As much as Veronica did not want to trust him, she did. Somehow she knew that whatever he was about to tell her would be the truth. Veronica couldn't help it; she liked the guy.

"You know, Echo here," Bunk pointed at Logan, "always told me you we're a suspicious little thing."

"Bunk…"Logan cautioned, clearly uncomfortable.

"Relax, Echo, I won't spill nothin' that doesn't need spillin'." Bunk said to him before returning his attention to Veronica to say, "But I want you to know, Veronica, you don't need to be suspicious of me." With that, he bent to the messenger bag that he'd set at his feet and pulled out a stack of paperwork. "I sent a rep down to Mr. Cliff McCormick, and we're working with him on getting Mr. Mars moved out of Neptune Memorial as we speak. From what your attorney implied, the hospital won't cooperate without your signature and also, the doctor won't release him, is that what you've been told?"

Flummoxed, Veronica sputtered, "Yes…"

"We've sent in a nurse that we trust to stay with him twenty-four seven until he can be moved." Bunk handed her the paperwork, "I need some signatures so that we have everything on file, but rest assured that Keith is safe. Nothing will happen to him while we're there."

"How did you…" she trailed off, her eyes cutting over to Logan.

Bunk did not notice the look that passed between the other two and continued, "Well, Echo said that short of the security here, the most important thing was keeping Keith Mars safe."

Logan said that Keith was the most important thing?

She felt ashamed at having spent the bulk of the day angry with Logan for bringing in Bunk just because it hadn't been her idea. She'd spent the entire time furious that he was doing things behind her back, yet what he'd been doing was trying to protect her dad.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Logan shrugged, pushing his foot off the door to stand on both feet. His eyes met hers. "Would you have listened?"

It seemed like he still knew her pretty well.

***Break***

Bunk had brought real food with him. He'd stopped at a grocery store somewhere along the way and now he asked if Logan would mind helping him haul it inside.

"Only a pansy would let a little bullet to the arm keep him from bringing a little ol' bag of groceries in," Bunk had teased with a laugh, but Logan had recognized the worry that lined Bunk's features as he'd said it.

Alone, the two men unearthed the bags of food and the various gear stowed in the trunk.

"How is the arm anyway?" Bunk asked, handing Logan a black computer bag before leaning farther into the trunk to retrieve a grocery sack. "I can't believe you didn't call me sooner."

"When would I have called you?" Logan countered, taking the bag and gingerly slinging it over his good shoulder before taking the groceries Bunk handed him. "This all happened in like a three-day time span."

It was dark and Logan couldn't see Bunk's face clearly, but he imagined Bunk wore a look of utter disbelief.

"For starters, you should have called my firm the minute that car got bashed in. I don't want a phone call days after the fact only to find out I could have been on ground zero, fighting the good fight. "

"Well, you're here now, aren't you? I did call."

"Only because coming out here and seeing Integral's sticker on the door reminded you that I exist," Bunk bit out derisively. "I know I'm not on your speed dial, but, hell, Logan, you're like a son to me. Someone should have called me. _You_ should have called me."

They stood facing each other, the light from the porch casting an iridescent glow on the concrete. Bunk wore a mask of disappointment, and Logan felt like a chided teenager. His friend was right; Logan hadn't even given Bunk a second thought during this past week of hell. He'd carried the whole burden of it alone like he'd always had to.

Ashamed, Logan dropped his eyes to the ground and mumbled, "I'm sorry, Bunk. You're right. I'm not used to anyone caring…I just didn't think."

Out of everyone Logan had met in the Navy, Bunk had been the first and only one to get to know Logan on a more personal level. He was the only one that knew of Aaron's true nature and about Lilly's murder; he knew about all of Logan's upbringing and turbulent high school years. He knew all about how Logan had spent his senior year pining for Veronica and even knew of their tumultuous relationship in college. He knew Logan's reasons for joining the Navy and his reasons for being with Carrie.

But despite everything that he knew, Bunk had never once uttered a word of it to anyone. Not one rumor reached Logan's ears about himself. Because of that, Logan trusted Bunk implicitly.

"Bunk," he started, searching for the words to explain, "This wasn't about me until two days ago. Somehow I've become the target; I just was trying to leave town yesterday and, inadvertently, became more of one. It wasn't that I didn't think of you; it's that I thought I could handle it."

"We all think we can handle things that we have no power to control," Bunk said softly. "But the hell of it is, kid, you don't have to do things alone."

Now that was a concept Logan was not used to.

**Break**

Cliff answered on the first ring. "Talk to me, V."

"I hear you've been talking with Integral Securities."

"It's all set up, V; everything's great. They're working on getting a picture of Keith, so we can see him. Everything's smooth."

Relief flooded her. "You didn't worry it was a shady deal?"

"After everything we talked about last night, I knew what to look for. Plus, Logan's been a client for a few years. He's talked about Bunk before."

"Logan's your client?"

"Well, now, V, that's client-attorney privilege, shit, I just said too much as it is. But sure, I know about Bunk."

"Huh," Veronica's hand tightened on the receiver. Logan was all sorts of surprising. "Why didn't you call me about what was going on?"

"Your phone's been down, V, and, besides, you said you'd call me. Since this morning's call, it's been crickets all day."

"Guilty as charged, Cliffie. I've been working on the case."

"Yeah, about that, V. You say you have access to MI's anonymous tips email account? I've forwarded some stuff that Keith and I discussed, some fishy cases I've had the displeasure of not winning. Maybe you can link them."

***Break***

Feeling better about her dad and his safety than she had since Mac had first called her in New York, Veronica finally felt able to let her guard down a little bit. Bunk was in the kitchen, slicing and dicing up a gourmet meal for them, and the smell of meat simmering was wafting down the hallway, making Veronica's mouth water.

The two men were talking in a low, serious tone when Veronica joined them.

Logan avoided her gaze, but poured her a glass of wine and slid it toward her, quickly withdrawing his fingers from the stem when she reached for it.

"Thanks," she murmured, taking a small sip.

The red wine was drier than she preferred and it burned when she swallowed it. Feeling like it was a lifeline she took a larger sip and rolled it on her tongue. It numbed her and she relaxed, stretching her neck to ease the stress of the day. When she opened her eyes, she found Logan watching her and she blinked once before awkwardly taking a third sip.

A smile played at his lips for a brief moment.

"So, Veronica," Bunk said conversationally, "Logan tells me you live in New York."

New York. It felt so far away, and yet it was her present. "Uh, yeah, I…I do, live there. For now. I don't really know." She met Logan's questioning stare and she felt herself flush. "With Dad…hurt…rehabilitation is going to take some time. He's gonna need my help."

"There are places he can live…you don't have to stay here," Logan suggested, "What about your life there? You're just going to give up work and everything?"

"He's my dad." She told him simply.

"What do you do in New York?" Bunk asked.

Tearing her gaze from Logan's, Veronica answered, "Actually, I'm supposed to take the Bar in a few weeks. I've been interviewing at different firms. To be honest, I turned down a position just this week."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Bunk said, "But that's very ambitious, I'm impressed. That takes a lot of dedication."

"More like determination," she told him.

"Hmm, well, do you regret being so determined?" The older man asked. His eyes remained on the skillet while his hands kept busy adding spices and stirring.

She watched him at his work, but her mind was on his question. "You know, there were a lot of years I didn't allow myself to ask if it was worth it. I couldn't let myself think about the ifs and the whys, you know? Because if I did…" she realized suddenly what she was saying. Veronica straightened. She cleared her throat. "I love New York. It's busy and is always going. The opportunities there are like nowhere else I've ever been."

Bunk seemed to jump on that, asking her, "Where else have you been?"

**Break***

Logan watched the master at his work.

He'd often wondered why Bunk had become so important to him over the years, but watching the older man in action made it clear.

Bunk had a way with people; a way that immediately put them at ease to the point that they would tell him just about anything he wanted to know.

Logan sat listening to Veronica talk about her years after college, about the transition from Stanford to D.C., and then ultimately to New York. It was the part of her history that he knew very little about, the part that Logan had always wondered about and obsessed over.

He listened to the way Bunk eased her into giving more away about herself that even her good friend's ever could, and Logan marveled at how comfortable she seemed while giving it. Bunk had a sixth sense, like a horse whisperer did, with the way he understood their type.

Because Veronica and Logan were the same type. And Bunk knew how to handle them.

Logan was suddenly very glad that Bunk was here with them.

* * *

 **A/N: I so hope you all like Bunk. Let me know! I'm a little nervous to bring in new players; but Bunk is essential. I hope you agree.**


	8. Chapter 8 Battle Plan

**A/N: Thanks you all for your continued interest. I appreciate your comments, and your excitement. Thank you. Thank you also to Bondopoulos, who has my back. I am so glad I snatched you as Beta long ago.**

Chapter 8

They'd exchanged phone numbers as if they were suddenly the best of friends.

Mac checked her phone for what seemed like the fortieth time in the past ten minutes, but it still showed no incoming text from Dick.

How strange it felt to be waiting for a message from him of all people, she thought.

Wallace stood waiting for her at the entrance of the hotel. Mac sped up her steps as she made her way to him from the parking lot, her black stilettos clicking into the pavement loudly, _click, click, clack._ She tugged at the hem of her dress, wishing suddenly that it were just a tad bit longer.

It was a dress she'd picked out specifically for tonight: black, short, sleeves off the shoulders, with peek-a-boo triangular cut-outs running down the sides of the dress to the waist. When she'd chosen the dress at Rica Boutique in La Jolla, she'd felt kick-ass in it. She'd imagined herself walking into the reunion oozing confidence amidst the whispers of _"Who is that?"_ while every head turned in her direction.

She'd be lying if she said she hadn't given any thought to a certain tall blonde's reaction. _Eat your heart out, Dickster,_ is what she'd intended her look to convey _._ Not once in her imagination had she thought she'd be the one to seek him out at any point during the night.

It was true that Mac was now so much more than the girl she'd been in high school; more _everything_. She was more confident, had an awesome (if a bit boring) job, a great apartment. She'd worked hard to overcome her past and to rise above it. But, even with the new dress and all of those factors combined, it didn't make the prospect of walking through that crowd any easier.

As she approached him, Wallace smiled and opened the door for her. Together they walked into the hotel's marble entryway and looked around. Familiar faces were scattered throughout the crowd. She scanned them all, but didn't see the one she was looking for.

Signs pointed to a table where Madison Sinclair and Shelly Pomroy sat with name tags spread out on a table before them.

Mac approached the booth cautiously, unsure of what to expect. Madison was not her friend in any way, and never had been. But Mac knew a lot about the other woman. It had often crossed her mind to wonder how much Madison knew about their shared past.

Judging by Madison's sneer, Mac assumed, not much.

"Cindy Mackenzie." The snooty blond handed her a nametag. "Nice hair."

Not sure if the comment was meant to be a compliment or not, Mac took the proffered tag and pinned it on without saying a word. Wallace took his as well, and they moved past the entrance and into the throng of people.

"So, ten year reunion!" Wallace rubbed his hands together and Mac grinned. "I want to hear some Kylie Minogue, Pussy Cat Dolls, maybe some solo Rob Thomas!"

"Let's find the bar first," she suggested with a laugh. "Then we can go harass the DJ for some of that old school rock and roll."

The space was already warm with too many bodies and smelled of alcohol and sweat. Mac wrinkled her nose. She felt Wallace's hand settle lightly on her back in an attempt to not lose her in the mass. She scanned the crowd for Dick.

She didn't even see him before she ran smack into him. He hadn't been facing her, but he must have felt her fall into him, because he immediately turned with an arm out to steady her. When his hand encircled her bicep and righted her, Mac looked up into his handsome face as she grappled at his sleeves to steady herself.

Damned Jimmy Choos.

"Why, if it isn't _Miss Most Likely to Blog!_ May I say you're looking espcecially fine tonight." He gave her an approving once-over and set her lightly away from him, his fingers skimming the flesh of her inner arm as he did so.

Mac shivered from his touch and looked at him through slanted eyes. He'd cleaned up nicely since this afternoon, even going so far as to don a jacket. The light gray suit flattered him, she thought resentfully. She folded her arms carefully as Wallace stepped protectively up beside her.

"You and uh…" Dick glanced at Wallace and frowned. "Urkel here gonna come to my after party? It's at the 09er. We're gonna party like it's 1999!"

The crowd was thickening and Dick kept losing his balance as people pushed past him.

"Ooh, an 09er party at the 09er. Sounds nostalgic," Mac said with a smirk, "How could anyone resist?"

"Come on, it's a great chance to catch up on old times; nothing better than that, right?" Dick said. He eyed Wallace again. "Dude, didn't you used to be on the basketball team? You're game was sick!"

"Thanks, man," Wallace answered.

The two men seemed to be sizing each other up, almost to the point that they were circling one another.

"I need a drink," Mac said suddenly. She dropped all appearances and started scanning the room for the bar.

"Ah, right here!" Dick said, pointing unexpectedly to his groin. He pumped his hips upward and grabbed a silver flask that was in a case attached to his belt buckle. He uncapped it, took a quick pull and then extended it to Mac.

As if she would take it. She frowned and shook her head. "Gross."

"Eh, your loss." Dick tucked the flask back into its case and pointed behind him. "Frou-frou drinks are that way."

As they moved away from him, Mac's phone dinged. It was a text from Dick:

 _Sean's not here yet. How r u gonna find the car?_

She tapped out a quick reply: _Don't worry about that. Keep me posted._

***Break***

The wine felt warm in her belly, and that warmth radiated out to her limbs, making her feel drowsy.

Most alcohol made Veronica feel invincible, but wine left her relaxed and loose-tongued.

Bunk sat across from her, telling Navy stories. Logan sat on the floor with his back against the couch, close enough to Veronica that every once in a while, if one of them moved just right, her knee would brush into his good shoulder or the back of his head. Occasionally, Logan would interrupt his friend's storytelling to add a tidbit here or correct something there, but otherwise was quiet. Veronica, although slow to respond, was taking in the stories and holding them for later; a small part of her wanted to wait until she was alone to dissect their meaning and connect all the dots of this part of Logan's life together.

It was true that she'd known Logan had joined the Navy. The furthest she'd ever let herself think of him in the Navy however, was boot camp and maybe onboard an air craft carrier.

But the stories that Bunk was volunteering were nothing like she'd ever imagined. They were nothing she could have ever even fathomed.

"So Logan flies down," Bunk was saying now, his face animated with the telling, " _Just_ as the missile is fired and it clips his wing."

She gasped and leaned forward, bumping into Logan as she did. She glanced down at him but he didn't look at her. Enjoying the solid warmth of his arm against her leg, Veronica purposely did not move away. To Bunk, Veronica prompted, "Oh my God. How..?"

"This is the thing!" Bunk leaned forward too, unaware at how tense the story was making his audience. "So it clips the wing, but it doesn't explode! Nothing happens! The damn thing bounces off the wing like a freakin' bird." He hooted, "Everyone on the carrier is waiting with bated breath, like, what the fu-excuse me, what the hell, we got to get this plane back on the carrier in one piece."

"You were more worried about the million dollar hunk of metal than me, just admit it," Logan piped up from his spot on the floor.

"You know it." Bunk winked before continuing, "He gimps the jet back, lands it slick as snot, hops out and says..." he laughed, " 'Dancing with the Devil never gets old!'"

"That was a good day for the team," Logan said modestly, tension evident in his voice.

Veronica's eyes burned into the back of Logan's head. The amount of danger the Navy put Logan into was so different than the danger she'd always associated with him. This danger was bigger than Neptune…bigger than anything she'd ever been a part of.

The fear she used to feel for him was nothing compared to the absolute terror beginning to slowly expand through her limbs. It began as a dull throb in her gut, where the wine had suddenly turned sour in her stomach. The tang of it seared the back of her throat, and she struggled to swallow it down, her throat closing off wretchedly.

"It proved a lot to your commander." Bunk was saying proudly, "Those kinds of days are the days everyone hopes never come, but want to go right when they do. And it went better than we thought."

"That seems like such a big deal. A near-miss air strike on a commercial plane," Veronica commented, somehow finding her voice. "How was that not a media-riot?"

"That's an even better day." Logan said in answer, standing abruptly and jostling Veronica as he did so. He didn't look at either of them when he said, "The less the media knows, the better we've done our job."

With that, Logan left the living room, and she heard the front door slam.

Bunk sighed. "I shouldn't have brought that one up."

"Why not?" Veronica asked, her eyes on the doorway.

"Echo's just…never liked the glory that comes with the job description, you might say." After a moment, he added, "Well, one thing about Echo is that he's fiercely protective. If he sees an opportunity, he jumps in and gets the job done."

"I seem to recall that about him," Veronica agreed.

"Tell me something. When's the last time you've spent time around Echo?"

Blinking, Veronica took a sip of her wine and looked over at the older man. "I…guess that would be almost nine years ago, at Hearst."

"And what was the situation?"

She could see that he already knew the answer, but she answered him anyway, "He'd just gotten into a fistfight defending my honor."

"See," Bunk said triumphantly, "He honestly wants to do the right thing. That blank missile started a trend of Ol' Echo. When you're under pressure like that…there's nothing like it, and nothing can truly prepare you to put your life on the line. His life wasn't his that day. It was America's. Echo proved to Commander Ross that he was ready for the true missions."

After a beat, Bunk added, "You know, he's a real hero."

"Well, yeah, that story—"

"No." Bunk firmly shook his head. "That was nothing. That was a commercial plane full of spoiled American's who didn't know enough to thank a man for his sacrifice. It was a year later that was the true test of what that boy out there is made of." He lowered his voice and leaned over the coffee table. "He had orders for a seek and destroy mission that none of us have authority to question. The coordinates for this place were given and he went in, ready to deliver. And by deliver, I mean kill.

"When you're on the front lines, you quit thinking in terms of bodies and lives. You'd go insane if you kept count, especially with all the what-ifs. Echo went in and purposely came back out, his mission incomplete. You see, something in his gut told him something was off with the mission, and he questioned it. Turns out, the building he'd been sent to destroy was actually a temporary station for the Red Crescent, which is kind of like Iran's Red Cross. Anyway, there'd been some serious fighting a few days before all of this and wires were crossed, but Echo, he trusted his gut and he saved probably two hundred lives that day. Al Qaeda wasn't even in the city that day; it would have been catastrophic.

"Now, it's not like Echo got out of that whole situation unscathed. There was a whole investigation; he was grounded for a bit. But once the higher ups realized just exactly what Echo had kept them from, there was leniency. He earned grudging respect from the naysayers that had originally questioned his right to be there."

"Why would he not have a right?"

"His history was well-known…the…drama that had followed him, his record, before he was recruited. He didn't talk about it to very many of us, and there were…assumptions made that he had a problem with authority and how he liked to go against the grain."

"I wondered about that," she admitted. "The Navy isn't somewhere I ever really pictured Logan ending up."

"No, I supposed not," Bunk agreed. "But he really has a love of flying; it fits him."

They sat for a few moments of silence. Finally, Veronica asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"He's your man; you've a right to know."

Uncertainly, she said, "Bunk…we're not together, Logan and I. We haven't even seen each other in years; he just lost Carrie. He's not mine."

"Hmph." Bunk said in answer, standing up and stretching. "Well, that's just a matter of opinion, isn't it?"

Before Veronica could respond, her computer binged. Dick had just activated the wire.

***Break**

Logan needed oxygen. He needed to stay outside and breathe in the crisp night air. He started pacing around the house to cool down and think.

He couldn't quite figure Veronica out. All day she'd been irritable and short-tempered, but once Bunk had walked in the door, she'd become relaxed, almost happy even. Logan was having a hard time processing the change. Sure, Bunk was good with people, but this change was beyond that.

During dinner, the three of them had sat at the kitchen island, side by side. Bunk had kept the conversation going, for which Logan was grateful. Only a few times had it been necessary for Logan to utter even a syllable. That made it easier for Logan to pretend to listen while he tried to ignore how Veronica's thigh kept skimming lightly against when she reached for something. And how, every once in a while, Veronica would move her foot just so and it would bump into his ever so slightly. More than once he'd looked at her in surprise, but she'd been immersed in whatever Bunk was saying.

It had seemed obvious to him that she wasn't doing it on purpose. But Logan had spent too many years keeping himself from even thinking he'd ever see her again. To be sitting close enough to feel the heat of her was almost euphoric. He'd had to keep himself in check, not wanting to visibly react to her nearness.

And then, after dinner, Logan had caught Veronica looking at him more than once when she thought he wasn't looking. The funny thing was that Logan always noticed when Veronica looked at him. He'd always been aware of her. That was the one thing about her that he had never quite been able to shake since they were twelve years old. Tonight he'd been hyperaware of the small differences in her recent behavior. She seemed to find reasons to touch him, such as when they brought their dishes to the dishwasher. She'd had to step around him to get by and the whole length of her had brushed up against him. It was quick and unexpected, and Veronica hadn't given any hint that she'd done it on purpose, but Logan's body reacted as if the move had been completely calculated.

After that moment, his entire body had been zinging with awareness. Awareness of her. It was a feeling that he hadn't allowed himself to feel for years. When they'd gone into the living room and sat down, he'd thought for sure she'd give him a break, but she hadn't. He couldn't help but watch Veronica take small sips of her wine. He watched how her tongue lightly touched the rim of the glass, watched how her eyes hooded slightly when the alcohol spilled into her mouth. It felt as if she was playing a seductive game with him as he watched her lower the glass to her lap and then run her fingers along the rim of the glass. When she spilled a small bit of the red wine on her fingers, he watched her thoughtlessly lick the inner pads of her fingers, one by one, sucking off the sweetness that had dripped there.

Not being able to take it anymore, he'd sat on the floor against the couch so he couldn't be distracted by her. Then Bunk had sat down across from him and started telling more stories. Of course, Veronica had sat down near him to listen. For thirty excruciating minutes, Logan had borne feeling Veronica's knee bumping into his good shoulder. Each brush was a healthy reminder of the increasing tightness in his groin. Sometimes, he had thought irritably while trying, unsuccessfully, to join in Bunk's storytelling, it would be nice to not have such animalistic thoughts at every improper moment. He'd sat back to pull at the knees of his pants and folded his good arm across his chest in an attempt to appear nonchalant, and then sat as still as he could when he'd sensed Veronica looking at him.

Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore. Bunk was telling a story that Logan had never even told Dick, and he could feel Veronica's eyes burning a hole in his back. Everything closed in on him in that moment and he'd had enough.

He'd just come around the corner of the house when Bunk rushed out of the door. "Echo, we're live!"

***Break***

 _It's on._

The 'bing' of an incoming text came just as Mac caught sight of Dick slinking out the back exit door behind Sean Fredrick.

She cast a glance over at Wallace, who had taken up a conversation with Weevil and his wife at a table. Engrossed in the discussion, Wallace didn't see her. She wended her way through the crowd, back down the stairs and then out to the parking lot, where she started looking for Sean's car.

As she walked, she pulled a small tracking device from the vee of her dress. With a cursory glance around the lost, Mac activated it before quickly palming it, never missing a step. She hoped that she could find Sean's ride quickly and would be able to attach the device to it without attracting any attention.

Ever on top of all the details, Veronica had emailed Mac with the make and model of the two vehicles that Sean owned. Relatively certain that he'd choose to arrive in his two-seater BMW over his more modest SUV; Mac was on the lookout for the small car.

She found it two rows farther toward the back of the lot. It was a dark night and the area was lit up only in spots beneath light poles, which were speckled throughout the lot. The little red car was not near a light, but it was not in a position that was dark enough for Mac to feel confident that she would not look suspicious if security was watching from the control room.

Mac was relieved to see no one about when she looked back to the entrance of the hotel.

As she came up even with the car, Mac let herself trip in her wobbly heels and fall to the ground. She'd already unsnapped the top of her clutch and as she landed, her lipstick and compact spilled out of the little black bag. Gathering them up, Mac reached beneath the car as if looking for a stray item and stuck the tracker under the bumper before deftly gathering her items. She stood up, brushed off the side of her skirt that she'd landed on and then headed further out to where she'd parked earlier.

After a few minutes, she made her way back to the hotel, no one any the wiser as to what she'd just done.

***Break***

Wallace was waiting for her at the reunion's entrance. He stood there, leaning against the door jam and looking utterly pissed off. "I don't like it when my date disappears."

She jerked her head in the direction of where Dick was now talking with a brunette-headed bimbo that she didn't recognize. "Sorry, but opportunity waits for no man."

Wallace tracked her gaze and huffed. "I figured out where you went, at least. Weevil and I were having a nice little chat about some of his old compadres getting time for stuff they didn't do."

"Veronica might want to hear about that." Mac continued past the door into the party with Wallace on her heels.

"That's what I said. I told ol' Weevs that the four of us should get together for a little catch up dinner later next week."

They continued through the maze of people but stopped when they heard Madison Sinclair over the loud speaker.

"And now, we'd like to start the awards portion of the evening!" Madison stood on the stage, looking out over the crowd with a large screen behind her.

"They just showed a memorial of everyone who died," Dick said low in her ear. Mac's eyes remained frozen on the screen; she didn't move as he continued, "Carrie was the last one." Lower still, he told her, "I got some of the goods tonight, but he wanted payment for the rest, so the plan is to meet later in the week to finish up the transaction."

The three of them stood together while Madison handed out miscellaneous made-up awards for random acts of achievement. Quickly growing bored, Mac began fidgeting, wondering just how much longer she'd have to stay here.

"Relax, Mackster," Dick breathed from behind her, "You can leave anytime, you know. I do need to give back your gift from this afternoon, but I got places to be. Be at the 09er in an hour."

She'd almost forgotten that he had the bug. She gave a curt nod in acknowledgement and then turned to Wallace. "You up for an 09er party later tonight?"

Wallace slid his eyes to the empty space where Dick had just disappeared from and then back to her. "What's a long night of reminiscing? I still haven't even heard that solo Rob Thomas."

***Break***

Mac had never been tempted to go into the 09er before tonight.

A few years back, the owners of the 09er had built the swanky members-only club. Although the building that stood here previously had been condemned and destroyed, Mac had suspicions that there had been nothing wrong with the structure. The fact of the matter was that the building had once housed none other than Mars Investigations. When the building had to be torn down, Keith had had to scramble to find a new office. The new office, Mac knew, wasn't in the most desirable of locations. It had been on principal and honor that Mac had chosen not frequent the 09er. She felt as if the elite were purposely squeezing the lesser few out of town one by one and she wanted no part of it.

Now, as she gave her name to the bouncer, she looked past the brawny man's shoulder into the glimmering expanse of the club. Wallace stood silently beside her and Mac suddenly wondered how exactly she would be allowed into a members-only night club.

"Cindy Mackenzie…" the bouncer repeated for the third time, consulting a clipboard. "Ah, yes, I thought so, here it is. Plus one," he eyed Wallace, "Says you need to go up and see the boss…"

"What?" Mac asked in consternation. "Are you sure?"

"Yup, says so right here." The bouncer pointed at the paper. "Just follow the stairs to the third floor and give your name to the staff member there. They'll let you in. I'll let him know you're on the way."

They made their way into the club and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Who owns this place?" Wallace asked, "Is it who I'm thinking?"

"If you're thinking who I'm thinking, then I think so."

The third floor overlooked the dance floor, and they took a moment to look over the throng of people before approaching what Mac would guess was an armed guard in front of some double doors.

"Ms. Mackenzie?" The guard asked, looking at her. At her nod, he pushed the doors open, "He'll be up in just a moment, please take a seat." And with that, guard retreated, letting the door shut behind himm and the two of them were left alone in a large modern-looking office.

"How did we not know this about him?" Wallace asked as he strode to a window that overlooked the city. "I mean, shouldn't we have known that Dick Casablancas bought the old MI building and had it demolished?"

"Yeah, you'd think so, but I guess it never occurred to me to care," Mac answered as she looked around with curiosity. "I mean, I knew about his surf shop but not this place. I don't remember the owner ever being disclosed in the media."

"That's because we didn't want to be in the news," Dick's voice came from the doorway.

Mac swiveled around to look at him. " _We_?"

His eyes glinted. "Me and my-uh— _silent_ partner." Mac's questioning stare only made his grin broaden. "When we found out the building had been condemned, we chose to buy it up."

Mac pounced on that. "You mean, it really was condemned?"

"It had been for quite a while before we snatched it up," Dick replied, "The city hadn't told the lessees of the building, though. We'd been looking for a place to buy for a while when we looked at this site. Our realtor had heard rumors, and we had the place inspected. Sure enough, there was enough wrong with it, it should have been torn down probably twenty years earlier."

Mac snorted with disbelief. "You expect us to believe that sack of lies? You threw out businesses that needed the space! As if the city would let a condemned building not be demolished."

"We helped out every single one of those businesses, Mac." Dick's tone was serious, more serious than she'd really heard him be in the past. "Ask Keith Mars; he got a great deal to help find a new place of business. The attorneys drew it all up."

She scoffed. "Have you been to his 'new' place of business? It's a total dump."

Dick shrugged. "The cash settlement was meant to help ease the burden of uprooting their businesses and moving. There wasn't a clause that allocated it to only business use. For all I know, he could have blown it all on crank."

 _Or bought a nice house,_ the thought dawned on Mac suddenly. She blinked with the realization.

"Speaking of crank," Dick said, changing the subject, "Ol' Seannie-boy is ready to be my partner in crime."

"Why didn't you just meet him here?" Wallace asked from across the room.

"Are you deluded, dude? I don't want any of that shit anywhere near either of my businesses. A little dallying in it is one thing, but I'm not mixing business with that kind of pleasure," his eyes cut to Mac, "Now, other kinds of pleasure…"

She fought to keep herself from even a tiny smile. "Tell us about the meeting."

***Break***

They sat back in disappointment.

Veronica had pulled the map up on her laptop and they all stared at the blinking red light that indicated Sean's location in real-time.

And according to the property records Veronica had pulled up earlier in the day, he had just arrived at home and was now sitting idle inside his condo.

"Why isn't he meeting anyone?" Logan asked, frustration evident in his voice. "Why the fuck is he just sitting at home?"

Veronica was frustrated, too. She stared at the screen, willing the little beacon to move. "Maybe they met at his place." The earlier tension of the day was seeping back into her and the edges of panic were back.

"You know as well as I do that you don't do a drop where you live or work," Logan muttered, running his hand through his hair. "Sean has a system, we just don't know what the fuck it is. "

"Logan…" Veronica started, but Bunk interrupted her.

"I think you're right, Echo. I don't know anything about the guy, but I wouldn't be surprised if the drops are regularly scheduled at a set time in a specific place. Just because Dick told Sean that he's a serious buyer doesn't mean that Sean can or will alter his meeting schedule. And we all heard the audio; Dick said he didn't need the next delivery until next weekend."

"Next weekend is too far away!" Veronica complained, "Why on earth did he say that!"

"If he had pushed for a delivery tomorrow, Sean would have known something was off," Logan reminded her, "Dick has his reasons."

Veronica met his stare across the coffee table. His features were too composed, she realized with annoyance. He hadn't looked this calm all day, and she, in contrast, was becoming irate again. "Well, if Dick screwed this up…"

"He didn't screw anything up." Now Logan sounded irritated. "You heard him; he did everything we asked him to do. When will you ever just trust who I trust?"

"Why should I trust who you trust?" She challenged, her voice rising to meet his. "Up until a month ago, I suppose you would have trusted Gia and Luke with your life and look what they did. They killed your lover!"

From beside her, Bunk said evenly, "Now, you two should just—"

"Oh, and that's what this is all about, isn't it! Carrie and what happened to her, as if I could control the company she kept. Didn't we just have this same argument this morning?" Logan yelled, barreling past Bunk's calm reasoning.

"And you keep dodging it," Veronica spat out, not caring how harsh she sounded.

He looked so angry at her that she wouldn't have been surprised to see steam coming from off the top of his head.

Logan placed his hands on his hips, his brown eyes penetrating hers. "Because that, without a doubt, is absolutely none of your business. I don't have to explain to you why Carrie did anything!" he roared, "She didn't want my advice and wouldn't have listened to a damn thing I said! It's none of your fucking business!"

She honestly didn't know why she was pressing the issue, but Veronica stared stubbornly back at him. She ignored the fact that his piercing gaze was causing her pulse to quicken as well as the warning bells going off in her head. "If Carrie was so special to you, if she was your lover, why would you not get her away from those people no matter what? How stupid were you?"

"Don't you dare make me feel guilty over that!"

"Answer me!" she bellowed, "If she meant so much to you, if you cared so much, wouldn't you have ignored her protests and kept her from their clutches? Kept her from people like Sean?"

"Because she was not my LOVER!" Logan suddenly burst out, surprising them both.

They both had stood up at some point and were now shouting at each other over the coffee table. Bunk had shrunk back in his seat as if trying to disappear. Veronica's hands were on her hips and heat was rising up her neck from her anger. Logan stood glaring back at her, his normally cool brown eyes now molten lava with fury.

They stepped back away from the table at the same time, both breathing heavily as they locked eyes.

Veronica was dumbfounded by his admission. "What?"

The anger seemed to melt away as Logan ran his hand through his hair and pulling his injured arm into his body. He sighed heavily. "You heard me. Just…quit throwing Carrie in my face. Honest to God, I couldn't make her do a damn thing. She and I…"

Veronica searched his face. He suddenly looked tired, weary of the hand life had dealt him. "Logan…"

"Look," he said curtly, misunderstanding her tone, "Think what you want. Just quit making me feel guilty about the way I've chosen to live my life when all you've done is run away from yours."

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading, and thank you if you care to review. I love to know what you think!  
**


	9. Chapter 9 The History Between Us

**A/N Wow so thank you all for your continued interest in this. For those of you appalled by Veronica's 'toxic' words on the previous chapter, I'm sorry about that. But I had to go there; I had to climb the mountain to see what was on the other side. I won't have an unexplained union between these two. I have to believe it and I want all the dirty laundry aired as much as possible. It's just in my nature. Hopefully I can pull it off. Thank you for all of the wonderful Reviews. I love your thoughts. They keep a writer going. Thank you for the follows and favorites-they are just as exciting to see the interest building by numbers. And thank you to my very important, very patient Beta, Bondopoulos, without whom I would probably still be stuck on chapter 4.  
**

Chapter 9

"I think I ought to go down to the gate and check in with security," Bunk interjected from his spot on the couch, breaking the tension of the showdown between Logan and Veronica.

Having forgotten Bunk was even there, Logan now looked down at his friend, feeling awkward. "Aw, shit, man, Bunk…"

The older man popped to his feet, hands in the air. "Nope, say no more. Seems to me like you two have some things to get out in the open, and I don't need to be here for that. My guys were 'sposed to set up and I needed to check on 'em before lights out anyway. Might as well check all the cameras and make sure the systems up and running, too."

Logan doubted there was that much work to be done, but watched silently while Bunk gathered up some of his things before slinking down the hall. After a few moments, he heard the slam of the front door. Logan turned back to Veronica, who now stood facing the bookshelf.

"I noticed all these pictures this morning," she said, almost conversationally.

Logan sighed heavily. "Yes."

"Carrie with her parents, Carrie at her concerts, Carrie with Susan Knight…pictures of all these people who were in her life, but…none of you." She swung around to face him.

Logan breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. "Yes."

Veronica stepped closer to him, her face set with the same determined look he'd seen her wear when she'd come to the beach house just mornings before. He watched her swallow. "You say she wasn't your lover."

"Right." He answered, suddenly very afraid of what she might see written on his face. "She wasn't."

She took one larger step toward him, close enough now that he could hear her agitation through her abnormal breathing. "The tabloids were saying you've been with her for over two years, Logan."

"Tabloids are known to be wrong."

She nodded slowly, as if weighing her words, Veronica said, rather delicately, "You…hired my dad to find her killer."

"That's true."

"Well," Veronica threw her hands up with a half-shrug, "help me out here, Logan. I've seen the pictures of you with Carrie…I mean, to the world…to everyone…"

"I know what everyone thought. That's what we wanted everyone to think."

"But…" she sputtered, "why?"

Logan swept past her to look at the pictures on the bookshelf, but mostly also to give himself some breathing room. "It was something that worked for both of us. I'm deployed a lot, and she was on tour a lot. It made sense; it worked for us." He risked a glance back at her.

Her face whitened at the word 'us'. "A fake relationship makes sense? The fact that you were both gone all the time helps out the pretense of a loving relationship how? What possible motive could there be for that?"

Logan began to absently rub his injured shoulder. This was the conversation he had been hoping to avoid. He sought to find the right words to explain. "No; being gone all the time meant we only had to be seen together some of the time for people to buy it." He glanced at her. "Besides, why does it even matter to you?"

She folded her arms and gave him a look that he recognized from years ago.

He felt himself quake under her scrutiny but he stood his ground. Logan turned back to face her and stared hard at her, willing her to say it. "What is it that you want me to say, Veronica? You weren't here; it's not like it would have even mattered to you if you _had_ been here. Carrie's dead. Why does any of this matter now?"

**Break**

His words bit into her and she broke their gaze. _Why does it matter, Veronica?_

She knew why it mattered. It mattered because this was Logan. It mattered because in the past week, Logan had saved her dad's life, been a valuable witness, and found her a safe place to stay. It mattered because she'd been worried that he was rebounding from the loss of the love of his life. It mattered because Veronica had been using Carrie as the reason why Logan was as vulnerable as Veronica felt. It mattered because, without that as a reason, there was more going on here than grief. It mattered.

But instead of just telling him that, she stammered, "It…it matters because, well this…this whole situation happened because of your decision to hire Dad…"

He looked disgusted. "That's your reason?"

Floundering, she replied, "Well…not completely…I mean, if you weren't really _with_ Carrie…who exactly knew that?"

"Just Dick," Logan answered, sounding resigned.

Grasping onto the olive branch he'd just extended, Veronica replied, "Dick. All right. So he is the only person that knows your relationship with Carrie wasn't real?"

He cleared his throat. "Well…and Bunk."

"Bunk." Veronica automatically looked down at the black bag that the older man had left sitting open on the coffee table. "So is that why he thinks we're together?"

"You and me?" Logan asked, sounding surprised. "He said that?"

"He implied it, yes."

"Hm," Logan shrugged. "He thinks too much."

Veronica smiled. "You were right, he did surprise me."

"Twice in one day; that's a record."

She cocked her head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"That Veronica Mars admitted I was right."

A burst of air escaped her. "Oh."

For a moment they stood staring at each other, each lost in thought.

She was the first to recover. Wanting to bring the conversation back to Carrie, she asked, "Okay, so everyone else thinks that you two were really together? Even her parents?"

Logan folded his arms, looking resigned to her questioning.

"Especially her parents," Logan told her, "Scott and Marie were what started the whole thing."

"Carrie was twenty-seven years old; she was still seeking her parents' approval?" Veronica asked skeptically.

"There was a lot about Carrie that will probably always be a mystery to me, Veronica." Logan picked up a picture frame that held the portrait of Carrie with her family. "She suggested the arrangement and I agreed to it; it was a great way for me to pull a fast one on the paparazzi." He set the frame down and looked at her. "I had fun with it."

"But…" Veronica blinked. "You loved her?"

"Sure I loved her. She was my friend."

"I don't understand why—"

"Veronica." Logan's voice came out as a warning. "You don't need to understand." He adjusted the frame before turning to look at her sharply. "She and I were still very close regardless of the fact that the relationship wasn't what it appeared to be."

"So at one time it was real?"

He was silent for a moment. "Have you ever been in a fake relationship?" Stepping closer to her, Logan's eyes burned into hers. "It can be liberating. There's nothing there to fix. Nothing to get mad about; there's no emotion involved at all." He smiled suddenly, but Veronica didn't think it quite reached his eyes. "What's not to love about it?"

She dropped her gaze and stepped back, mumbling, "Sounds lonely."

"Lonely." Logan repeated, his voice full of irony. "Do you have any idea what it is like to have the media wolves at your door your whole life?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't."

"They wouldn't stop sniffing at my door, Veronica. Waiting for the next bad thing to happen is their drug. I was tired of it. Carrie was tired of it. We decided that we might as well bait them our own way in an effort at keeping our real lives private. The more they thought they knew, the better it worked for us. The longer we stayed together, the less they hounded us. We finally became old news. We were…boring."

She felt a pang at how sad he looked. "So you sacrificed yourself to mock the press?"

"No one seemed to notice the sacrifice, so what harm did it do besides keep the press off my back?"

Veronica was still trying to piece it all together, but it still wasn't making sense. "So when you were in Neptune, you traipsed around town with Carrie. Honestly," her voice hinted accusingly, "I don't see how that worked for you at all. Back when I knew you, you would sleep with anything that walked."

"How do you know that I don't still?" he snapped, his expression hardening. He was only a couple of feet away from her now, a look of utter misery reflecting in his face. "Why the hell do you insist on ripping me apart every chance you get?"

 _So I won't give in and fall for you again._ She clamped her mouth shut and stared at him, carefully keeping her face a blank mask. The rise and fall of his chest was rapid and her eyes focused on his throat where his pulse beat. He'd shaved today, she noticed vaguely, inanely wondering where he'd found a razor.

Logan stepped even closer, a frown on his face, his eyes flashing hotly. "You think that I'm still that same reckless boy I was that you left, don't you? You think that there is no room for change, and that I have just stayed the same, biding my time for your return, like I'm some kind of…of…of…Rip Van Winkle! What gives you the right to assume that I am anything like I was when you left me?" Veronica felt her eyes widen at how destroyed he sounded. Logan's emotion was palpable and his voice came out strangled, "Maybe it's because _you_ haven't changed a bit." Suddenly, he reached out and took a hold of her shoulder, his eyes roaming her face. "But damn if it still doesn't matter to me." Without any more warning than that, Logan pulled her into him and kissed her.

She was caught completely off-guard. She tried to object as he dipped toward her, but the insistent way his mouth closed over hers made her quickly forget her protest. Her body shamelessly responded to his body pushing into hers and she lost all thought. The only thing she sensed was how his mouth was devouring hers and how her breasts pressed into his chest deliciously. Her fingers found his hard and threaded themselves into the strands on their own accord. A moan emitted from deep inside her throat when his tongue pushed past her lips and into the recesses of her mouth. Mindlessly, she opened herself up to him. His fingers began kneading their way down the back of her neck and she pulled him even closer into her.

There were no more thoughts and for Veronica, all sound and movement ceased to exist except for what was happening between them in that moment. She felt hungry for his touch; years of starvation was the only possible explanation for the way her body eagerly arched into his and how her hands began to freely roam.

All at once, Logan broke their contact. He reached up and wrenched her hands from out of his hair before he pushed her away from him. He was breathing heavily. Veronica could see his pulse beating rapidly at the base of his throat, which seemed to match the rhythm of her own. Cautiously, she raised her eyes to meet his.

"Damn it," he said, placing his good hand on his hip and his other he tightly against his chest, his eyes burning into her as he took a deep, steadying breath. "I must be a masochist."

She didn't know what to say. Logan abruptly backed away from her and moved toward the doorway, his eyes frozen on her the entire time. At last he turned and gave her one last long look over his shoulder before he disappeared down the hall.

She stood alone in the living room for an undetermined amount of time, vacantly staring after him. Her body was pulsating with the awareness that he had just awoken inside her. Deep in her belly, there was a throbbing of desire that was now humming to life.

Veronica rubbed her neck as if to scrub his touch from her and erase the memory of the past few moments. But it wouldn't be shaken. He'd scorched her with his kiss; all she could taste was Logan. Even the sandalwood scent that was his was on her now.

**Break**

Well, so much for self-control, Logan thought bitterly as he stomped his way outside to find Bunk. She'd pushed him to the edge and he'd pushed back.

His whole body was blazing with desire. Her mouth had been soft and pliant and she'd seemed to be a willing participant; eager almost. The nine plus years since he'd felt her mouth on his had just melted away in that moment and it had taken every ounce of will power that he possessed to pull away from her.

Veronica knew exactly how to crush him. She'd just implied that he couldn't keep his pants zipped when he'd been with her in college and it couldn't have been further from the truth. He'd been cheated on before; he'd watched Aaron cheat on his mother for years. He simply did not believe in cheating.

With Carrie, there had been an understanding. They were not really in a relationship; he could have girlfriends and one-night stands as he saw fit. Neither of them cared about the other's sexual conquests. But if he and Carrie had been the real thing, he would have been one hundred percent faithful to her.

He saw Bunk just ahead of him at the front gate. He was talking with some of the security crew who had flown in with him. Logan was glad that he and Veronica were safe within the gates; he didn't have to worry about outside forces right now. Worrying about staying away from Veronica was all than he could handle at the moment.

***Break***

Mac walked out to the dance floor with Dick and Wallace beside her. She was glad that none of the faces in the crowd were familiar. It would limit any speculation and keep rumors from circulating around town.

"Why don't you relax a little and party?" Dick offered in her ear, "You've done all you can tonight; Ronnie won't mind."

Mac nervously ran a hand along the front of her dress; covertly feeling for the little bug that Dick had given back to her. She'd stuffed it in her bra before they'd left the office, turning away from Dick's knowing smirk so he couldn't watch her as she did so. "I have a lot to do yet."

"Pshaw," Dick flicked her argument away, "Nothing that can't wait. Seriously, Mackie, it's an open bar. It's Saturday night, let down your hair! It would be good for you!"

Wallace gave her a grin and shrugged. "You know how people talk in this town. If we just hang out and keep our ears open, we might learn something out that would help."

That argument won out and Mac relented. To Dick, she said, "Fine. One drink."

Dick led the way to the bar and got them each a drink of their choosing. Despite the crowd, the bartender served them quickly. Within minutes, a group of women distracted Wallace, and Mac found herself left alone with Dick.

She nursed her drink slowly, wanting to keep a clear head.

"You know, you really look hot tonight," Dick said around a swig of his beer.

Mac choked. She carefully set the drink down on the supplied coaster and then straightened the glass just so, in an attempt to buy herself some time. Her mind skittered to another time, years before, when she'd run into Dick at the Neptune Grand.

** _Flashback***_

 _She was drunk. The music around her was pumping loudly into her ears and she felt dizzy._

 _Mac looked around the room, wishing she hadn't come here. It was a mistake, but she had come with Parker who had practically dragged her along. The girl's pleading had quickly cracked Mac's walls, and now here she was. Parker went off with some frat boy, leaving Mac alone, as per the usual. And of course, Mac had no other ride and no keys to Parker's car._

 _Damn._

 _She looked around the room and saw very few people she knew. This was Dick Casablancas' penthouse—Logan had left six or so months before, but Dick had yet to grow up and move into a more acceptable living space. Rumor had it that Dick Senior had rented the place out for Dick Junior for the rest of the semester and that Dick Junior was taking full advantage._

 _Not that it mattered to Mac in the slightest. Dick Senior had been gone for too long as it was, and look what had happened to his sons. One was a murdering dead man, the other a full-blown disaster of a boy._

 _Thinking of Dick must have conjured him up; she saw him standing near the kegs, laughing hard at something that a group of half-dressed sorority girls were telling him. Mac watched as he picked up the 'party-pig' and a girl leaned over him for a drink out of the hose._

 _Feeling unexpectedly nauseated, Mac bolted to a side door in search of the bathroom. She found herself in one of the bedrooms and rushed through it to the door that led to the actual bathroom. Relieved to have found it in time, she shut the door firmly before leaning against it, grateful for the cool metal against her back. It cleared her queasy stomach. She locked the door and stepped to the sink to splash water over her face. For a moment she stared at her reflection, wondering just what the hell she was doing here._

 _After a few minutes, Mac stepped back out into the large bedroom. The bed looked inviting and clean; maybe if she lay down for a while it would ease her stomach. Perhaps Parker would be ready to leave by then._

 _The bed was too inviting to spend another moment contemplating on it. She pulled back the covers and climbed in. There was a very male scent on the pillows and she inhaled it deeply. It smelled so welcoming that Mac curled up on her side and pulled one of the pillows into her; wrapping her arms around it as she burrowed her head more deeply into the other._

 _The music beat through the walls for quite a while. Mac dozed, falling in and out of sleep for a while until finally she was out._

 _The jostling of the bed woke her. Keeping her eyes shut tight, Mac fought the disorienting array of confusion. She heard a deep male sigh and the bed still for a moment._

 _After a moment, she heard a whisper, "Mac?"_

 _It was Dick. Embarrassment coursed through her and all she could think to do was to continue feigning sleep. Mac tried her best to keep her breathing even._

 _She felt his fingers gently touch her arm. "Hey, Mac?"_

 _Eventually, he gave up trying to rouse her. But instead of leaving her there, Mac felt the bed jostle more and she realized with dismay that he'd pulled the covers back and was climbing in next to her. She half-expected him to try something; in fact, Mac was already conjuring a plan of attack in case he tried Her limbs were free and she could easily get a swift kick to his groin if she had to; her nails were plenty long and she would gladly bite him. Randomly, she recalled an article she'd read that said to pee on your attacker. Surely she could muster up some urine._

 _How did she get herself into these situations?_

 _Just as Dick got comfortable and Mac was weighing the wisdom of getting away from him, she heard him say softly, "Mac, I wish you were awake, but I guess you wouldn't probably listen if you were, so maybe if I tell you now at least you can't interrupt me."_

 _She stilled when he turned his body to his side and she felt his breath hot on her ear._

 _"It's my fault; what Cassidy became is all my fault. It's my fault he did all that shit and I hate that he did what he did to you." His hand touched her arm and again, Mac started calculating the right moment to go all Kung-Fu on him. Suddenly though, he dropped his hand and the bed creaked as he turned away from her and settled on his back. "Not that you give a damn anyway, but hell."_

 _The tortured crack in his voice tugged at her heart, and before she knew what she was doing, Mac rolled over to face him._

 _His eyes connected with hers, wide with surprise that she wasn't asleep. She smiled at him; more tenderly than she had ever remembered looking at him before._

 _They lay staring at each other. Mac dimly realized that the music had stopped and that there was only silence save for the sound of their breathing._

 _The look in his eyes conveyed something familiar; something she recognized. She reached up to trace his jawbone, surprised by her sudden need to touch him. She brushed a strand of his hair from his face and he stiffened, his eyes growing wider when she tucked it behind his ear. He froze completely when Mac tipped her mouth up to touch his._

 _Her brain felt fuzzy from the alcohol and Dick tasted like the beer he'd been drinking earlier; both of those things emboldened her. She traced his lips with her tongue and pressed her body into his._

 _Dick's hand came to rest on the swell of her hip as she continued her ministrations to his mouth. She pulled back to look at him; he still looked stunned and completely at a loss for words._

 _She didn't need or want words. She just needed him, right now, and words would just get in the way. Not letting common sense talk her out of it, Mac sat up and leaned over him, resting on her outstretched hand. She ran her fingers down the length of his button-down shirt, working each button loose as she went._

 _A hand clasped over hers to still it. When she met his questioning stare, Mac answered by pulling herself free of his hold and tugging at his shirt lapels in an attempt to get it off of him. He shrugged out of it, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on hers, slowly and erotically pulling it off of himself before discarding the undershirt he wore as well._

 _Her skirt had wended its way up her hips and his fingers were creeping even further under the fabric; Mac smiled her encouragement and felt them slide up even more, touching the edge of her panties. His breathing hitched higher when she abruptly straddled him. The movement made her skirt ride up even higher, and his hands rounded her ass and pushed her down onto the fly of his jeans._

 _Murmuring her approval, Mac ran both hands up and down his now bare chest and stopped at a nipple to rub and tease him there. The hiss through his teeth made her smile and she bent to place a kiss at the hollow of his neck. His hands were suddenly grappling at the hem of her shirt, roaming underneath to the clasp of her bra. She felt him unsnap it and his hands were out of her shirt and then up her sleeves, pulling at the straps and suddenly she was completely free of the undergarment. Then his fingers were at her breasts, pulling and twisting deliciously, proving his deftness at the art of pleasure. She arched into his hands; her own breathing coming out in short bursts._

 _Together they tugged her shirt off of her. Dick sat up and wrapped his arms around her, her bare breasts tingling against his chest; it felt unreal and wonderful and Mac reveled in it. She let herself get lost in how he was ravaging her body; his fingers and his mouth teasing, making her crazy._

 _Her own fingers found the button of his jeans and she began pulling wildly at it. His fingers pushed hers away and he freed himself. In desperation, Mac pushed his hands aside and encircled the length of him with her fingers, feathering the tip before pumping her hand down. His hips pushed up in eager response and he grabbed her hips to pull her down onto the bed so that he was kneeling between her legs, staring down at her. Taking the initiative, Mac wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him down hard with them. He lost his balance but caught himself inches from her face, chest heaving, eyes dilated to black orbs of utter desire._

 _"You're so fucking hot, Mac," he growled above her._

 _She felt his erection and she bucked up, frantically seeking contact. She was surprised when he pulled back and looked down at her again. Mac murmured her desperation, struggling beneath him in search of the missing heat of his body._

 _He sat back and ran his hands lightly up the sides of her thighs; she felt his fingers on the edges of her panties again and then dip past the soft fabric. Fingertips, cool and light, feathered her soft center and she reared against them. It wasn't quite what she was searching for but it was enough for now and she cried out blindly._

 _Dick leaned down and kissed her mouth. He nudged her legs so that they wrapped around him again. She felt him against her, hard and ready. He pulled his mouth from hers and looked in her eyes, and she saw a look of uncertainty there._

 _They were almost completely naked now; the only barrier between them was the scrap of fabric that was her skirt and the thong that he'd already pushed aside. Mac pushed her hips closer into him. Roughly she ordered him, "Do it."_

 _At her command, Dick thrust himself into her, and both of them sucked in satisfied breaths of air; the sensation of him filling her caused her to convulse in small spasms beginning a build of needed release. The rhythm of each thrust made Mac build and build and all at once, she crashed. Her moans became screams and Dick pushed his mouth over hers, sucking the sound of her into him until suddenly he stilled, his eyes wide as he exploded inside her. She pulled him closer into her and he collapsed over her, his heart beating loudly in her ear._

 _They lay there together the rest of the night, with no words between them. Mac rolled away from him but he didn't take the hint; he scooped her into his arms and nestled her there comfortably._

 _**END FLASHBACK**_

When Mac woke up that next morning in Dick's bed, she had been mortified. Her raging headache had only confirmed her suspicions that she'd initiated sex with Dick in a weak moment induced by alcohol and exhaustion. Because of that, Mac had just become another notch on his bed post.

If he even remembered. He'd been completely passed out when she'd left and she'd had no idea if he'd been too drunk to remember that she'd even been there at all. Which was completely fine by her. The less he remembered about it the better off they both were.

She hadn't seen much of Dick after that. Only twice, in fact. Both were times that she'd taken her brother into Dick's surf shop for gear. Ryan had been adamant that Water Dog was the only place around to get top-notch gear, and therefore would only shop there. And, of course, Dick had been at the counter, so Mac had scurried around, trying her best to not be noticed and then she'd sneaked her way out the front door while Dick helped Ryan pick out a wet suit.

The times she'd gotten together with Logan over the years had been over dinner and safely away from Dick and any thought of him. She'd never admitted to anyone what had happened that night at Dick's penthouse.

And now, years later, she was sitting at a bar with him. She blinked at that realization and spied the tall blond over her glass.

Obviously clueless of the direction of her thoughts, Dick stood beside her took another long pull of his beer before he set it down. He grinned over at her. "Dance with me?"

The request surprised her. She was even more surprised when he grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the dance floor with him.

The music was loud and thumped so hard that Mac could feel the floor vibrating through her shoes and up her legs. Dick's fingers were curled around hers and when he reached the middle of the floor, he turned to her and began dancing wildly to the beat. People around them gave them a wide berth.

"Come on, Mackie!" Dick yelled over the music. "Live a little! Enjoy yourself for once."

 _That's it, its official,_ Mac thought, watching him; _there is no way he remembers._ She relaxed enough to dance with him; careful to not touch or be touched. Then the song was suddenly over, slowing abruptly into a piano intro and a sultry voice began singing about three a.m. and sheets being untucked. Before she knew what was happening, Dick grabbed her again and began swaying slowly, his lower body pressed provocatively into hers.

The song had a sexy beat and Mac couldn't help the way her body responded to it and to Dick's body against hers. The room was warm and Dick smelled a distinct mixture of male and alcohol. She swayed with the music and laughed lightly when he swung her out and twirled her on one arm, pulling her tightly back into him. She looked up into his blue eyes and he looked down at her at the same time. All at once, Mac thought she saw a flicker of recognition. Dick suddenly stood her upright and set her away from him, breathing hard as he blinked at her, looking slightly confused.

The noise around them fell away as they stared at one another. Mac folded her arms around herself, suddenly feeling cold under his scrutinizing stare. She turned away from him and started to retreat off the dance floor, wending her way through the swarm of sweaty bodies and toward the bar in search of Wallace. She needed to get out of here and if she couldn't find Wallace to tell him, to hell with it. She had her own ride; she could make her excuses tomorrow.

"Mac!" Dick's voice carried over the crowd. She hazarded a glance back and saw him attempting to follow after her.

Wallace was not at the bar. Not pausing, Mac turned and headed directly for the exit. Anything that hadn't been taken care of tonight could wait until morning. She pushed her way through the door and out into the night, heading directly to where she'd parked her car.

She had only just reached the parking lot when she heard Dick behind her, calling, "Hey, Mac! Wait up!"

Her key in her hand, Mac spotted her car and made a beeline for it, ignoring Dick entirely. She hit the 'unlock' button on her key fob and the car's headlights flashed in response. She had just reached out to pull the door's handle when Dick's hand came down onto her shoulder.

She paused and looked back at him. He wore a rare serious expression on his abnormally pale face, his eyes wide. He dropped his hand and stood there looking awkward. She waited expectantly.

"Uh…" Dick said, running his fingers through his hair before stuffing both hands into his pockets. "So we're gonna talk after my next meeting with Sean?"

Mac stared blankly at him. "Yeah, isn't that what we decided? I have to get the bug back to the lab or they might notice its missing. So take good notes."

He grinned and feigned writing on an invisible notebook. "Take. Good. Notes. Check."

She stifled a laugh at his goofy demeanor. There was just something about the guy.

He dropped his hands again and his grin faded into a flat line. "Seriously, though, what the fuck just happened back there?"

Shivering, Mac chafed at her arms. Dick shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her, smiling at her stunned silence. "Can't have the lady cold, now, can I?" When he seemed satisfied, Dick stood back and looked back down at her. "You gonna answer my question?"

Frak, no, she wasn't going to.

When she saw that Dick had no intention of relenting, Mac cleared her throat and stammered, "I…uh..well, you know, it's late and I have a long day tomorrow.."

"I call bullshit."

Her eyes shot up to his in shock. "Excuse me?"

"Come on, Mackie," Dick said, stepping closer to her. Mac stepped back and hit the door of her car, and was surprised when Dick pushed her more gently into it. "You felt it, too. I saw it."

"Saw what?" she denied weakly, tipping her face up to better see him.

His gaze was hot. He propped his hands on the car door, one on each side of her head, effectively pinning her there while he inspected her. Not saying anything, Dick tilted his head this way and that, slowly. Watching him made Mac's heart accelerate and she felt a slow burn of awareness sputtering awake in her belly.

She swallowed. "What are you doing?"

A smile played on Dick's lips and suddenly, Mac wanted to feel them on her. She bit her lip, wondering what Dick was thinking.

His eyes zeroed in on her mouth and she was almost sure he was going to kiss her; she closed her eyes, and tilted her head and waited.

"Mac!"

The moment was broken and Dick dropped his hands and stepped away from her. She opened her eyes and looked to where Wallace was jogging across the parking lot toward them.

"Mac! I wanted to catch up with you before you left!" Wallace's footsteps faltered as he neared the car. He looked questioningly between the two of them and Mac saw the two of them through Wallace's eyes: Dick looking slightly disheveled and Mac wearing his jacket. "Uh...well maybe you're all right."

"No, it's fine, Wallace. Dick just wanted to finalize the plan. We're all set," Mac said quickly, shrugging off the jacket and handing back to Dick. "It's been a long night, though. I have to get home. I've got a lot I have to do tomorrow."

"Yeah, thanks, Wally, I think I got her safety covered here," Dick said, opening the car door and then moving aside to let Mac get in. "She's making a safe getaway tonight."

"I'll call you, Mac, in the morning?" Wallace asked, still watching warily.

As she climbed into her car, Mac called out an affirmative and Wallace held a hand up in goodnight. Just as she went to pull the car door closed, Dick leaned over it, his arm hung casually on the window frame. "You know this isn't over, Mackie." He looked pointedly at her mouth and drew his tongue across his lips slowly. "Deny it all ya want, but you can't get away so easily." With that, he stood up and slammed the door shut.

On autopilot, Mac started up her car and put it into drive, with her heart in her throat and her hands shaking from how hard her heart was pumping.

She watched from her rear view mirror as both Wallace and Dick tracked her car as she drove out of the parking lot.

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading. If you have time, I always welcome your review. Thanks!**


	10. Chapter 10 Direction

**A/N: Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and of course, your Reviews. Reviews are amazing. So simply put, Thank you. Reading these stories are optional and so it with that awareness that I want to extend to you all how much I appreciate that there seems to be a liking of this story. Thank you to the amazing Bond, without whom I would not have ended up where we end at this chapter, and the great counsel and advice for which the next chapter would still be hanging in the eternal balance of "What now?"**

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Chapter 10

As Logan approached the end of the drive, Bunk separated himself from his team and met him halfway down the drive.

As they neared one another, Logan motioned behind Bunk to the men at the gate and commented, "When you said crew, you meant army."

Bunk looked back at the front gate and shrugged indifferently. "Yeah, well, in this line of business, I've found it's best to be overly prepared than surprised. Everything out here is going as planned. Everything's secure. How's it going in there?"

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the ends. "She's mad as hell."

The smile on Bunk's lips grew wide. "Finding out about Carrie was a surprise?" With Logan's sharp look, Bunk grew more serious. "Did you tell her everything?"

"Most of it."

Bunk's eyebrow's raised. "Really? And why not all of it?"

"You know why not."

"You really ought to tell her," Bunk counseled. "It would probably help."

"Why should I be concerned about it helping?" Logan retorted bitterly, hating how vulnerable he felt. "All she cares about is her dad."

"Hurrumph." Bunk snorted, "If all that mattered to her was only Keith Mars, do you think she'd be keyed up here with you in the boonies? Now, I'm not saying he's not important, because of course he is. But just think about it for a minute. She has a car. She knew I was coming. She could have left you here at any time today, Echo, and she's still here. What does that tell you?"

Logan hadn't considered that. He looked behind him at the house, where a light flickered on in the upstairs guest room. Veronica's shadow was visible, moving around. All day the two of them had been at each others throats, arguing and bickering over everything. Though he'd spent that entire time defending and justifying himself to her, it had never occurred to Logan that Veronica truly did have the liberty to leave at any point.

Last night when she'd made the quip about not leaving a comrade behind, it had been made in half-jest and before he'd told her about Bunk. He'd told her to leave and she'd brushed it off. But the truth was that she really could have left.

Why hadn't she?

***Break***

Before Veronica crawled into bed, she'd watched Logan talk to Bunk from her bedroom window. The two men stood out on the driveway for quite some time before they'd separated. Logan had turned to make his way back into the house while Bunk headed to the front gate where a group of his men were working. Although she couldn't quite see how many men were there or what they were doing, Veronica hadn't been alarmed to see them there. She knew from what Bunk had told her earlier that there was a security team who would be patrolling the grounds and double-checking the alarm system that had been installed years before.

Thinking of the alarm system made Veronica think of Carrie the reality of who she had been, especially in regard to Logan. Or, more precisely, who Carrie _hadn't_ been to Logan. They hadn't really been together.

They hadn't really been together?

Veronica had pretty much figured that out this morning. All the telltale signs had been there when she'd looked around the living room and found no sign of Logan throughout Carrie's personal pictures. That combined with things Logan had and hadn't said, had been resounding in her mind all day. Because of that, she'd purposely poked him every chance she'd gotten, trying to get him to fill in the blanks. But when he'd finally given in, she'd still been shocked at his admission.

The words had punched Veronica in the stomach; his expression had squeezed her heart like a vise. He'd looked seventeen again, and oh so vulnerable. The way he'd shouted out that Carrie was not his had been tragic.

And what had she done? Twisted the knife deeper and then plunged it in farther.

She sighed. Picking at him wasn't bringing her any satisfaction; it was only making her hurt for him more. It made her feel things that she'd never allowed herself to feel. She'd wanted to reach out and hold him tight, even though the thought of doing so made Veronica feel susceptible to being hurt herself.

He'd hurt her so many times in the past, and to just forget that…

Looking back now, Veronica tried to recall the worst of it—the most hurtful things Logan had done to her. But she couldn't. All Veronica could think of at that precise moment were the times when he'd been there for her.

Then why couldn't she be there for him now? She owed him that much, didn't she? She owed him some effort to be kinder, to be more patient, and less demanding of information she had no right to demand to know.

Veronica dropped the curtain and moved about the room, readying herself for bed. Tomorrow would be another day. There was no reason for her to obsess over Logan and his life now. What she _could_ do was work at being kinder toward him. He deserved that much at least.

The kiss they'd just shared was something that would have to be forgotten, though. She couldn't let herself dwell on what it might mean. She pulled back the covers on the bed and crawled into it.

She found herself staring at the ceiling for a long time, her fingers to her lips. Eventually she dozed off.

**Break**

 _Veronica had been standing in front of the hotel door for ten minutes, talking herself in and out of knocking the entire time. Finally, she just did it and realized it was too late to back out. If Logan was here, he'd open that door and know, KNOW, why she was here._

 _After a moment, the door swung open and Logan stood there, staring, shocked, at her. She searched him, from his bare feet to his perfectly-coiffed hair and all she could think was that he looked just like home._

 _She was home._

 _It was as if she floated the three steps it took to be in his arms, and then they were wrapped up in each other, devouring one another. Logan's hands caressed her back and made their way into her hair, her hands wrapped around his neck. They pulled each other closer as Logan turned her slightly away from the door and slammed it shut with his foot before gently swinging her up and pressing her against the jam._

 _Their hands roamed down each other freely until he broke the kiss and stared at her, his deep brown eyes pools of desire, but she saw the question and she smiled at him._

 _"I missed you."_

 _The soft smile he gave her was reassuring and their lips sought each other again, Logan's tongue dipping into hers delectably and she returned the kiss in kind. When he made his way down her jaw bone to nip greedily at her neck, Veronica nearly purred out loud._

 _"Ahh…" she murmured, her small body arching into his larger, harder one. Logan's arms felt so good around her. With the muscles of his biceps wrapped tightly against her, she let herself revel in the sensation of him devouring her. He'd propped a leg up against the door to hold her between him and the wall, enabling Veronica to merely enjoy the ride. Her fingers grappled at the edge of his shirt, making her way underneath to touch the coolness of his stomach. As she did so, Logan broke away from her neck and looked at her, his eyes so fiery with desire that Veronica felt dizzy._

 _"Veronica…" He started, and she tried to silence him with a kiss, but he shook his head and pulled further back. "No, Veronica, I need to talk to you first…"_

 _"Whatever you have to say, Logan, I don't need to hear it. I missed you; I want to be with you. Nothing you have to say can change that. I…I…" Veronica stopped, the words refusing to roll off her tongue. She was so used to keeping herself closed up and shielded that to knowingly give Logan even a little bit of herself was almost painful. Just by coming here tonight was more than she'd ever given before._

 _God, what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she give him just a little bit more of herself?_

 _Everything about him fit her so well; she wondered suddenly why she 'd ever chosen to let him go. When he'd turned away from her that day on campus, she should have thrown herself down on her knees and begged for him to not leave her. She'd wanted to so badly…the tears she'd cried that day still didn't seem to have dried on her heart. She'd been walking around in a fog, concentrating so hard on cases and the things around her that she had been able to deny how badly she'd needed him._

 _During all of her inner turmoil, Logan watched her, wearing a very serious expression. Suddenly, he flashed the smile Veronica loved so well, the one that said he knew what she was trying to say and that he wouldn't force her to say it. "I missed you, too."_

 _Suddenly his embrace around her tightened and he twirled her around and around until the backs of her knees hit the arm of the couch. Together they fell onto it, Logan above her. His hands roamed up and under her the light cotton shirt she wore beneath her jean jacket and found a nipple; she arched into his hand and gasped out loud when he trailed his tongue down her neck. He sucked tenderly at the spot at the base of her throat that always made her mindless, and she tugged at the ends of his hair, unaware of anything else around them._

 _Together, they tugged off her jacket and discarded it; just as quickly her shirt joined the jacket on the floor and his followed soon thereafter. His hands were on her again, pulling at her bra as his mouth covered hers again. He pressed her smoothly to lie back on the couch as he dipped even lower, placing kisses above the cup of her bra and further down._

 _His fingers were now working on the belt at her waist, every so often dipping underneath, and Veronica involuntarily bucked against him in waves as he worked. Soon the jeans were off and all that was left were her panties and bra. Logan stood up and reached for her; when she stood up to join him, he picked her up and made his way to the bedroom. Veronica laughed giddily as she threw her arms around him, burying her head into his neck and lightly touching her tongue to where she could see his pulse beating._

 _When he laid her down on the bed, Logan took his time to finish undressing himself before joining her. She watched him with hooded eyes, her body humming with anticipation and longing. He never broke her gaze, and in it she could see the same desire mirrored in his eyes. Finally, finally, he lay himself beside her, on his side with an arm propping himself up so that he could look at her. She turned her head to watch him, and he took his free hand and drew lazy circles with his index finger around her belly button, gradually making the circle big with each full turn until he hit the band of her low-rise panties._

 _At that point, he rolled himself between her thighs and began the process of removing the underwear, methodically pushing them down and kissing the exposed skin. Her breath came out in choppy bursts; the dull ache within her was beginning its wonderful throbbing of awareness and near-completeness. She bucked up into his mouth when she felt his warm breath against the sensitive skin and she felt his tongue…_

 _Veronica cried out, riding the wave of absolute pleasure as she dimly felt Logan's fingers trail down her thighs. Moments later, or hours, she really didn't know and really didn't care; she felt so good and was so content being there with him. But however long it was, Logan pulled himself next to her and pulled her into him. He nuzzled her neck, and though she felt weightless and rubbery, Veronica mustered enough energy to straddle him, letting her hair fall around her face and when she leaned down to kiss him; she let the ends feather his chest lightly. His fingers threaded through her hair and he framed her face, pulling her back slightly and she was forced to look into his face as he examined her._

 _The look in his eyes was so full of love and wonder…oh, how she could let herself get lost in his eyes. She let herself drown now, as she moved herself just right and she watched his eyes widen in surprise as she plunged herself down on him with a sudden thrust; he was in her, fully and completely. Slowly, they moved together and she loved the way she could see his control slip when suddenly Logan shuddered and threw his head back. His hands gripped firmly on her hips, rocking her back and forth so that she suddenly found another release and they cried out together, each of their names on the other's lips._

**Break***

When Veronica woke the next morning, she was still flushed. It had been many years since she'd dreamed of that particular memory. She clearly remembered that night, the night she'd thrown caution to the wind and had gone to Logan to do whatever it took to get him back. It had taken a lot for her to get to that point, but at that particular moment in time, she hadn't been able to see any other option. She'd needed him. Logan hadn't made her try very hard, she also remembered that. It seemed they had both needed each other and eagerly fell directly back into their old patterns without doing much more to work on their relationship. It had ultimately destroyed them as a couple.

The savory smell of bacon drifted up from the kitchen, and her stomach rumbled with hunger. Pushing the memory of Logan's touch from her mind, Veronica swiftly showered and dressed in a pair of jeans that was a little too snug and an oversized sweatshirt, both of which she found in the bottom of the guest room's dresser.

When she rounded the corner of the kitchen, the hum of voices stilled. She entered the room and saw Bunk standing over the stove, frying the bacon. Logan sat at the island, already digging in. He didn't look up from his plate, apparently absorbed with his bacon and eggs. His short hair was mussed from sleep and he had on a worn looking t-shirt with the sleeves cut off over long basketball shorts. The bandage at his shoulder poked out from the shirt's arm hole, and Veronica wondered guiltily if he'd been able to change it last night or if Bunk had helped him with it.

"Well, good morning, Goldilocks," Bunk said to her, motioning to a stack of plates. "Help yourself. I'm making enough for my guys out there, too, but there's plenty to go around."

In answer, Veronica took a plate and loaded up on bacon, eggs, and toast. She murmured her thanks and made herself a cup of coffee. Leaving a stool between herself and Logan, Veronica sat down at the island and tucked herself in.

Next to her, Logan chewed methodically, his eyes still downcast. Veronica focused on her plate and feigned great interest in her toast. She broke the bread apart and popped the pieces into her mouth, eating slowly. She set down what was left and picked up her fork to attack the scrambled eggs on her plate.

Finished with frying the last of the bacon, Bunk scooped the strips onto a plate covered with paper towel before returning the pan to the stove top and switching off the burner. He filled himself a plate. Instead of inching between them to take the extra seat, Bunk plunked the plate down across from the two of them and leaned over the island, propping himself on his elbows.

"I wanted to introduce you to the security team today," Bunk said a few moments later, around a mouthful of egg, "but it's gonna have to wait. We got word this morning that your dad's being moved."

"What?" Veronica's eyes shot from her plate, "Right now?"

Bunk looked over to the clock display on the oven. "Yes, actually right now. He's in transit."

The bacon she'd just swallowed lodged in her throat. "When can I see him?"

Bunk straightened and took a large swallow of coffee. "He'll be set up at a private hospital on the outskirts of San Diego. If we leave as soon as we're ready, we can probably get there approximately an hour after his arrival."

**Break**

Veronica wanted to leave right away and Bunk agreed, so they finished their breakfast quickly and then started rushing about the house. There wasn't much to do to get ready, which was nice, but it still felt good to keep busy; it kept her mind off of Logan and enabled her to think about the more important issue that was her dad.

Standing in the office, she took stock of the items there, deciding what was important enough to bring with and what could feasibly stay. She filled her black leather messenger bag with what she could: laptop, phones, the tablet. With one last look, she was out of the door. As she hurried out of the office, she adjusted the items better in her bag and slung the strap more comfortably over her shoulder. As she did so, she ran straight into Logan, who was walking down the hall.

"Oof," she exclaimed in surprise, automatically reaching out and grabbing his arm to steady herself. "Sorry."

He turned into her and automatically steadied her with his good hand, his fingers lightly digging into her bicep as he righted her. She looked up into his face and she smiled awkwardly, feeling unsure. Logan returned the smile cautiously and opened his mouth to say something.

"You two ready to go?" From the kitchen, Bunk poked his head around the corner and interrupted them.

Logan set her back and stepped away. He started down the hall and toward Bunk. "I'm ready when you two are."

"Logan." When he looked back at her, Veronica said, "Do you really think it's safe for you to go?"

"Well," Logan answered slowly as he turned back to fully look at her. "I'd really like to be there for you. Safety be damned."

Before Veronica could respond, Bunk called out, "Already taken care of."

***Break**

"Is this really necessary?"

"Relax, Echo, better safe than sorry," Bunk commented drily as he maneuvered the car into a parking space in front of the small private hospital. "I'd rather you feel like an idiot than be made."

"Yeah, relax, Echo," Veronica repeated, shooting Logan a grin when he glared back at her. At his scowl, she grinned wider. "Cowboy up."

Logan adjusted the large black cowboy hat and then grabbed the door handle to get out of the car. When the click of cowboy boots hit the pavement, he gritted his teeth in displeasure. "I always wondered what it would be like to be a _Rhinestone Cowboy._ I'm seriously disappointed that you two didn't want to join in on the fun and throw on some Wranglers, too."

Actually, he wasn't wearing Wranglers, _thank God,_ but Logan still felt ridiculous. He opened the back door for Veronica to get out and when she slipped past him, she returned the guarded smile he gave her. He wondered if she felt as awkward as he did; this felt like after their first kiss back in high school when they both had tried to pretend that it had never happened for a while. Earlier at the house, they'd kept away from each other, exchanging very few words. In the car, they'd avoided eye contact the whole ride, which had been easy enough since Logan had sat in the front with Bunk. But now they were stuck stepping around each other again, unsure and awkward.

However awkward, Logan still knew Veronica well enough to sense her anxieties intensify the closer they'd gotten to San Diego. He'd immediately picked up on her nervous chatter and known it was a reaction to the prospect of seeing Keith. Her anxious energy had been steadily increasing with every mile.

Now as Logan looked up at the tall building before him, he hoped that Keith was already here and resting comfortably in his own private room. Because if that weren't the case, Veronica would likely become hysterical and Logan wasn't sure what to do if that happened. He'd rather be spared from finding out.

They approached the sliding glass doors together. The plaid, long-sleeved button-up shirt Logan wore was tight and pulled painfully at the bandage at his shoulder. He had to make a conscious effort to keep himself from drawing his arm protectively into himself to ease the discomfort. Bunk had threatened him to not exhibit any odd or suspicious mannerisms and Logan was pretty sure that babying his injured arm counted as unusual. Tensely, he adjusted the cowboy hat again and Bunk frowned.

"Son, if you keep that up people are gonna know you don't wear one of those normally."

"The lack of shit on the shit-kickers isn't sign enough?" Logan disputed under his breath, and Bunk narrowed his gaze. "What, man? This Stetson practically still has the price tag plastered to the side of it."

"Yeah, and Garth Brooks called, he wants his shirt back," Veronica quipped with a grin as she sidled past the two of them, entering the foyer first.

"So shut your mouth," Logan warned her gruffly, "You probably should have worn a Dolly Parton getup, too."

"Of course, that's your pick of disguises. Buxom-bottle-blond."

"Well, is there any better kind?" Bunk teased, "How can you blame him?"

***Break***

She felt a great sense of relief wash over her when Bunk introduced Veronica to Keith's nurse, Trevor. Not for the first time, Veronica was grateful that Logan had called his Navy buddy in for help. She'd known immediately upon shaking Trevor's hand that the RN worked directly for Bunk. The RN was both a nurse and a bodyguard. It had been hard to contain her emotion at the realization. Her dad had the best care possible, and it was because of Logan.

Logan had stood stoically beside her when the doctor had come to talk with her about Keith's prognosis. The news today was better than before; the plan was to lessen the meds so that Keith would come out of his induced coma sometime the next day.

It was with trepidation that Veronica pushed open the door that led into Keith's new room. Though it was dark, she could see her dad in the dim light. He was unconscious on the bed. Somehow, Veronica found herself beside the bed, staring down at him, feeling the shock of what had happened all over again. Nothing could have prepared her for how bad he looked; it was horrible seeing him strung up to multiple machines with tubes running all directions.

Tentatively, she set a hand on his. It felt cold. She searched his face, wishing fervently that his eyes would pop open and that a smile would form on his lips. There was nary a sign of life and she wondered just how close to death he actually was. The doctors hadn't been lying earlier when they'd told her how bad he was; seeing it with her own eyes was terrifying.

Logan and Bunk had waited in the hall when she went in. Now she wished for their presence and support.

She ran a hand up the length of his arm, yearning to hug him for all she was worth. Veronica was quite nervous to touch him more than she'd already done, afraid of dislodging a wire or pinching off an essential tube. Fighting hard to control the tears, and not knowing what else to do, Veronica started talking.

She told him about Mac's phone call and of her rushing to get to Neptune. She told him of the days that had followed, and how much she had wanted to be with him every moment, but how the doctors wouldn't let her in. She told him of the things she'd learned about the incident, and that Sacks had died. Then she told him of Logan and what she'd learned about adult Logan, about the Navy and Bunk and everything she'd learned about Logan's fake relationship with Carrie.

And then, when she felt braver, Veronica laid her head softly onto his chest and cried.

**Break**

Her face was a pale hue of white when she emerged from Keith's room.

Not thinking, Logan took her into his arms and held her close. There was nothing else he knew to do and from the way she melted into him, holding on to him tightly, too, he knew it was what she needed most. He ran a hand awkwardly down her back and patted her softly. "Hey, everything will be all right," he murmured, as if speaking to a child, "You heard what the doctor said; he's improving."

"Oh, Logan," Veronica sniffled into the plaid of his shirt, "He looks like death."

The vulnerable tone of her voice made Logan tighten his arms around her and he pressed a kiss onto the top of her head. "He might look that way, but he's not dead. He's going to be fine."

After a few moments, Veronica pulled slightly away from him. She kept her arms wrapped around him as she looked up at him. Drops of tears clung to her lashes like crystals, and Logan could see all the different tones of blue in her eyes; the cerulean speckled throughout the cobalt. His chest constricted.

She moved her arms away from him to tuck her hair behind her ears. Sighing heavily, she dropped her gaze away down to the floor. "Sorry. I thought I was prepared. How wrong I was."

Logan reached up and lightly cupped her cheeks in his hands. Looking startled, Veronica's eyes jumped to his, and he smiled at her as he searched her face. She hadn't aged a bit, he realized. There was hardly a trace of change; she looked just as she had in college. Except that the determined look she'd always had was now tinged with a vulnerability that he figured was being brought on by her dad's condition. He wondered if she'd ever age, or if Veronica had the type of beauty that would never grew old, no matter the years. His mind unexpectedly flashed to his mother, who had fought the aging process tooth and nail with procedures and tucks. Lynn had been a beautiful woman, but not like Veronica who had natural beauty. It was the kind of beauty that Logan had always appreciated and been attracted to.

They stood like that for a few minutes longer until Bunk interrupted their gazing at one another by storming down the hall with purpose. Logan dropped his hand and gave Veronica a fleeting smile before he turned his attention to the older man.

Bunk held up the tablet they had brought with them. "Your friend's little tracker, it's on the move."

Logan watched as Veronica turn from putty to business in two seconds. She full-throttled it down the hall to meet Bunk halfway and took the proffered tablet.

"Excellent," she muttered, all traces of her tears now gone. "Where is ol' Seannie Boy headed today?"

***Break***

The three of them made their way to the waiting room on the edge of the ICU wing. Glad to find it empty, Veronica led the others to a small table and sat down. On the tablet, Veronica zoomed in on the map out that showed the tiny beacon that was Dick's money move throughout the town of Neptune.

She wondered how long they should watch rather than just drive to Neptune and start following Sean.

Logan, who sat across from her, asked, "Where do you think he is going?"

Veronica shook her head. "Your guess is better than mine." She placed the iPad in the center of the table so they could all see it more easily. They all leaned over the table to get a closer look. "I think he's headed out of town."

"Do you think he's headed to the Mexican border?" Bunk leaned in closer and frowned. "Nah, that's the wrong direction."

"Mmm…no…" Veronica felt perplexed. "That's not the border and not toward…"

"You know," Logan said, interrupting her, his voice thoughtful, "That's the highway Santa Anita is on." He reached out and swiped at the screen, pointing at an area on the map that was marked as a point of interest. "It looks like he's almost there. And…I've seen him there myself, on race days. More than once."

Veronica's eyes bounced to his. "Horse races?"

Logan quickly looked back down and nodded. "Yeah, Dick goes most Sundays, and I go sometimes when I'm home. Sure."

"You think he's gambling that drug money on horse races?" Bunk asked incredulously, leaning in to look closer.

"Wait," Veronica said, barging over Bunk's question, "It's Sunday. Will Dick be going?"

"Well, maybe," Logan answered slowly, "I really don't know."

"Well, he should go." Veronica said, excited. "For that matter, get Mac or Wallace to go with him. Because if it's normal for Dick to be there, and you say Sean is there, then Dick needs to be there. Actually," she realized, "We all could go. Does anyone know you well there? Are you high stakes?"

"Uh," Logan sounded reluctant to answer her. "We place bets, yeah."

Veronica chewed on that for a moment. "Call Dick."

***Break***

"I need a favor." Veronica's voice on the line was urgent.

Mac stopped doing her dishes and dried her hands quickly so that she could hold the phone better. "What's going on?"

"Can you look up Sean Friedrich's history of betting at Santa Anita Park? We think he's headed there now since there's a race. We're wondering if he's gonna blow the money or what's really going on."

"You mean, you want me to hack into Santa Anita Park's mainframe?" Mac moved down the hall toward her office. "It'll take a while."

Veronica blew out a sigh. "Well, it was a long shot. We don't have that kind of time. What are you doing this afternoon?"

"Uhmmm, why?"

"Wanna take a ride to the horse derby with Dick?"

 _Why me?_ Mac thought, pushing the phone tighter to her ear. Out loud, with all the confidence she could muster she said, "Well-"

Through the phone, Mac heard a masculine voice and then Veronica cover the receiver to respond. A moment later, she came back, saying a little too cheerfully, "We'll all be there!"

Utterly speechless, Mac stared out her window and down to the parking lot. Stuck in a car with Dick for an hour to the race track? _God help me._

At her silence, Veronica prodded, "Come on, Mac. Wallace can't go. It would be great to see you; we could go over some things."

"Veronica—"

"Please, Mac. I really need to see you."

Mac, alarmed at how despondent Veronica sounded, asked, "Is everything all right? You sound…you sound…"

"I know how I sound, Mac, I…" Veronica's voice dropped an octave and Mac could tell she was trying to be covert on her end of the line. "I just saw Dad."

Aha. But… "How, Veronica? I thought the doctors said—"

"We got him moved this morning. I just saw him and…" Veronica stopped. "He's still really bad. Whoever did this has to pay."

They were silent for a moment. Resigned, Mac asked, "How soon should I be at Dick's?"

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you again. If you have time, a Review would make my day :)I apologize to that I haven't personally gotten back a note of thank you to those of you who reviewed the previous chapters. It's been a crazy month and so I have made the executive decision to focus on writing instead, because I feel that it where you all would prefer I be at this point anyway. As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	11. Chapter 11 Half Truths and Lies

**A/N: Thank you for all of your kind reviews. Thanks to Bond, because of all of your insight, these next few chapters are more realistic regarding the setting. I truly appreciate the help and pointers that completes the setting. Hopefully you will agree.**

 **Chapter 11**

Hanging up the phone, Veronica stepped over to where Logan and Bunk were silently watching the large flat screen television that was cued to a news program. The volume was turned low, but when Veronica glanced at it, Bunk said to Logan, "So tell me again—what exactly happened with your car?"

It took Veronica no time at all to see why Bunk was asking that.

Together, the three watched to the news cast in horrified silence. The screen flashed to a picture of the front of Mars Investigations where Logan's BMW sat charred and smoking.

 _"The sheriff's department is asking for your help locating a suspect wanted in connection with a car bomb set off in Neptune, California. Two nights ago, on the 700 block of Rosart Drive, fire fighters arrived on scene to find a BMW, registered to one Logan Echolls, engulfed in flames. Mr. Echolls is also under investigation in the death of a Balboa County Sheriff's Office Deputy, Jerry Sacks."_ A picture of Deputy Sacks, in a clean and pressed uniform, appeared on the screen over the reporter's shoulder with the words "Dep. Gerald Sex" written beneath it.

Veronica rolled her eyes at the ineptitude. _Can't even spell the name right._ She felt Logan become tenser with every word the reporter uttered. The muscle at his was jaw worked and she noticed he was grasping tightly the back of the high backed chair he stood behind hard enough to make his knuckles white. He stared at the screen unblinking, seemingly unaware of anything else around him.

 _"Sources at the sheriff's department state that Mr. Echolls was last seen with an unidentified white female, approximately five feet tall and 120 lbs, with blonde hair. The duo left the bombsite in a dark Buick Le Sabre, which was stolen from a nearby parking lot. According to police, the suspect may be armed. If you have any information of Mr. Echolls whereabouts you are urged to dial 911 immediately."_ A picture flashed on the screen of Logan, dressed in his wetsuit and holding a surfboard, looking completely unimposing _._

The news switched over to the weather report and Veronica clicked the television off. She set the remote down carefully before turning to look at both Logan and Bunk. She gnawed on the inside of her cheek. "Well. This changes things."

Logan stood stock-still, still staring at the blank television screen.

Bunk walked over to a small table and sat down heavily. "Somehow, I don't think this is going to go over very well with your Commander, Echo."

Logan pushed himself from the back of the chair. "Well, fuck." He strode over to the table, scraped back a chair and plunked himself down across from Bunk. "I can't say I'm surprised that Lamb's stooped to this."

Veronica joined the other two and opened her messenger bag. She pulled out the tablet she'd just put away and tapped her way online. She googled Logan's name and the report that just aired popped up with an updated description below it.

Already, comments were piling up at the bottom. Most were not kind:

 _'That no-good bastard has it coming now. He's guilty just like his murdering dad!'_

 _'A bomb now, Logan? I went to high school with that ass, he's self-destructive and it's about time he gets put off the streets.'_

And finally, after about ten similar comments, there was a positive one:

 _'Logan's being set up. He's still grieving over Bonnie. His friends murdered the love of his life! How can anyone believe he did this?!'_

"Well, you have one supporter." Veronica tilted the tablet so Logan could read it, and he scowled when he did. "What? Any public support is better than none."

He pointed at the user name. "BonnieFanGirl23 thinks she's in love with me."

She eyed the name. "Huh. Interesting. Not sure if that's more disturbing than the fact that you know her screen name."

"Trust me; I don't want to know her name. But when someone sends you daily quotes and personal cards, you get to know them whether you want to or not. It's not really a choice."

Dismissing the topic, Veronica pulled the laptop back to herself and scrolled back to the top. She skimmed through the article. "It says here your prints were found on the bomb, Logan. It also says that they didn't release the news of the bomb originally to keep it under wraps, thinking they would catch you at the high school reunion covertly. Now, since you didn't show up there, they need the public's help. Apparently, they haven't been able to locate you. Shame."

"How can they say I planted a bomb in my own car? What the fuck's the motive? What the hell!" Distraught, Logan roughly ran a hand through his hair, making the ends stick up.

"Logan." Veronica placed a hand over his. "We have proof you didn't do this, remember?"

He looked at her dubiously, cocking his eyebrows in obvious disbelief. "We do?"

"Yes, we do!" Veronica clicked open a picture file and waited for it to load. It popped open to reveal a picture of Logan's car with the man that had actually planted the bomb. "Exhibit A: Black Sweatshirt Asshole." She swiped to the next picture, which was an even closer shot of the man leaning over Logan's seat. "The police don't know about these, Logan. If I send this to the evening news, this whole situation goes away."

***Break***

Logan stared at the pictures on the tablet and wanted to kiss Veronica. She was so amazing and smart. He'd forgotten all about the pictures she'd taken when they'd been at Mars, Investigations. In their haste to get out of Neptune and with everything else that had transpired, the pictures had been the last thing on his mind. But it was clear as Veronica scrolled through each picture, that she hadn't forgotten. In fact, it was apparent that she'd been taking time to try and figure out whom the man was that had blown Logan's car to smithereens.

"They aren't releasing my name," Veronica was saying, "I would think by now that they'd have figured out I'm the one with you. 120 pounds! At least no one will ever think that's me! Ha, and them saying I stole the Le Sabre! Trust me; I would have stolen something a bit more exciting than an old Buick! It's obvious they're doing damage control here. They're taking names and asking questions later. Are you positive you never saw anything the night of the accident? Because it seems to me they think you did."

"How many times do you have to ask me that before you believe that there was nothing to see?" Logan snapped, feeling exasperated. She really would not give it up.

Bunk stood abruptly and looked down at both of them. "Maybe we should get out of this hospital."

Nodding in agreement, Veronica gathered up the tablet and slipped it back into her bag.

Logan stood up when she did and put a hand out to stop her. "Veronica. I think you should stay here with your dad."

When she started to argue, he insisted, "No, listen to me. You need to stay with your dad. Even if you can get those pictures to the media, it's gonna take time to clear all of this up. If your name isn't out yet, it might be better to just cut your ties with me now while you still can." He looked quickly over at Bunk, who nodded when he added, "Bunk can help me."

She stared at him for a moment and then seemed to come to a decision; there wasresolve in her eyes when she sharpened her gaze on his face. "I'm coming with you, Logan."

A strange sense of relief washed over him, but he still felt worried. Logan tried one more time. "Veronica…"

She held up her hand. "I'm of less use here than I'll be if we're together. But we need to call Mac and Dick again and rethink following Sean. I don't know if we should meet them at Santa Anita now, not with a warrant out for your arrest. They might have to go without us." She paused. "Just…give me five more minutes with my dad. I'd like to talk with the doctors one more time, and then we can go."

He watched Veronica head purposely out of the waiting room and down the hallway in search of the doctor. Many emotions coursed through him, one of which was a pang of regret that he'd ever gone to Mars Investigations two days prior. If only he'd just gone to San Diego like he'd wanted to. If he had, the bomb would have been planted well away from Veronica and she would be sitting safely at Neptune Memorial, waiting for Keith to wake up. She wouldn't be intertwined in this at all.

"I guess this cowboy hat is a good thing after all. I don't think anyone will be looking for me under it," he told Bunk now, tipping it lightly. "Maybe we ought to hit a rodeo since we can't go to the races."

Bunk had sat down again at the little round table, lost in thought. Logan swiveled on a boot heel and sat back down across from him. "I can see when the wheels are turning, Man, what're you thinking?"

**Break**

"Balboa County Sheriff's Office." Deputy Hanson answered in a bored tone. Shift work plus Sunday equaled boredom. "How can I direct your call?"

"Sheriff Lamb, please," a sultry voice replied.

Deputy Hanson straightened, feeling instantly alert. "May I ask who is calling?"

"Oh, of course," came the sexy giggle, "It's Martina Vasquez, of Channel Nine News. I was hoping," she purred, "that Sheriff Lamb might be able to answer some questions regarding the search for Logan Echolls?"

The erotic way the woman rolled her R's made Dep. Hanson's pulse quicken. He smiled into the phone, "Why, I sure can ask, Ms. Vasquez. But he did state that he doesn't want to give any interviews regarding Mr. Echollls."

The laughter on the other side of the line was erotic as hell. "Well, maybe I can persuade him otherwise."

"Please hold," Dep. Hanson told her, and pressed the hold button before going in search of the sheriff.

**Break**

"Why, Sheriff Lamb," Veronica laughed huskily into the phone, "You are a devil!"

Logan dug his fingers into his knee to keep himself from glaring back at her. He'd forgotten how good she was at pretending to be someone else. Listening to her now, she sounded just like the reporter from the television station. If he were on the other end of that phone call, Logan was sure he wouldn't have known it was an imposter posing as the reporter. So far she'd been talking to Lamb a good ten minutes and didn't show any signs of ending the conversation.

"You say that Mr. Echolls parked his car in front of the Mars, Investigations building and then detonated the bomb…what possible motive would he have had to do that?" She paused and Logan's ears perked up. "Uhm-hum. Really? You think he's upset that Mr. Mars and his affiliates found that out? Really….but according to my research, he and Ms. DeVille were together. Wouldn't it stand to reason that if Mr. Echolls knew that someone had hired Mars Investigations to find the whole truth he would be grateful? No, I didn't know that…have you been keeping his home under surveillance…? Right, his home in San Diego? And the Naval Base?...and no one has seen him?"

Bunk, who was navigating the car, made a sharp turn onto the highway and merged into traffic as Veronica continued to wheedle information out of Sheriff Lamb.

"Ooh, Sheriff Lamb!" Veronica giggled suggestively again, and Logan literally thought he'd start spitting nails. "You know, I have a strict policy of not dating my sources, but for you, I just may make an exception!" She lowered her voice and said, "Is there any way you'd be willing to scan over a copy of the case files? Just…so I could…take a peek…you know, so I can have my questions all ready for when we…," giggle, "get together."

**BREAK**

Dick. Ugh, really? Mac had been forcibly volunteered to spend the day with Dick. And then Veronica had called, telling her that it was probably too dangerous to meet them up at Santa Anita, but that they would all meet up later. Her friend had also suggested she pack a bag, just in case.

That meant even more time alone with Dick.

She now inspected Dick's house as she pulled into his driveway. Though Dick had always had more money than brains, his place was not as grandiose as Mac had always assumed it would be. Sure, he lived in an expensive neighborhood and his property abutted the ocean, but the house wasn't a mansion. She was a little annoyed how impressed she was by his simple refinement.

She grabbed her purse before she opened her car door and climbed out. Slowly, Mac made her way up the walk, taking her time, studying the landscaping and then the front of the house as she went. The front door was made entirely of glass, and through it she saw Dick already heading down the hallway to greet her. Before she had even reached the bell to ring it, Dick swung the door open for her with a wide grin on his face. He popped his brows up and down and said, "Couldn't stay away, eh?"

Not waiting for him to invite her in, Mac stalked right past him. She quickly rounded back to face him, folding her arms as she did so. "What can I say? Your charm drew me back."

"Well," he said, appraising her up and down, "I'm glad my animal magnetism could draw you in so easily. It's like honey, babe."

She blinked. "I see."

His smile grew wider. "You look smokin' in that dress; I like it."

Nervously, Mac looked down at her dress and pulled at the fabric with her fingers. "I wasn't sure how dressed up to be. I brought a hat; it's in the car…"

"That's perfect," Dick said, looking sincere as he said it.

She smiled back at him in appreciation and they stood there silently for a moment. Dick finally bobbed his head and motioned behind her, clearing his throat to say, "Uh…go on down the hall to the living room. I'll be right there. I just have a quick phone call I still need to make."

He turned abruptly and headed in the other direction, leaving Mac staring questioningly after him. She watched as he put his phone up to his ear.

"Yo, T!" he chortled loudly, turning back one last time to give her a grin before continuing down the hallway, "What's the haps, man?"

His animated voice made her smile, and Mac found herself following him down the hallway. Dick was so absorbed in his conservation that he didn't notice her behind him, as he was absorbed on his conversation. He disappeared at the end of the hallway, which led to the kitchen, his voice lowering as he focused on his call. Mac stopped there and stood in the shadows, shamelessly eavesdropping. She heard what sounded like the refrigerator opening and closing, and then the sound of a beer bottle cracking open and the cap clanging on the counter.

"I know! I know! Bam! Out of that gates!" Dick chuckled, emphasizing the last word.

"Now listen," his voice was suddenly serious and his tone quieted, "Seriously, dude, I need the lowdown on the race this afternoon, Man." After a slight pause, Dick reprovingly said, "Come on, T, you can do better than that! After all the loyal business I've brought you, certainly one race…? My hot new girl is coming with me and I need a bet to impress."

 _Hot new girl? Me? So that's how he's gonna play it, huh?_ Mac leaned up against the wall and looked around the corner and spied Dick standing against the sink, looking out of the window. Apparently, he didn't even know she was listening.

His laugh became more boisterous. "It's not that kind of thing, T. Well, not yet anyway…"

When she realized Dick was about to turn around, Mac quietly spun and hurried down to the living room where he'd told her to wait. As she went, Mac looked at the few pieces of art that lined the walls of the hallway. _If you could call it art_ , she thought bemusedly, looking at a surfboard that hung parallel to the floor on hooks. The way the board hung there, it looked more like storage than art but when she got to the living room and looked out the window to the beach, there was yet another surfboard propped up outside in the sand.

 _Well, he does own his own shop_ , she reasoned. _Why wouldn't he have surfboards in every nook and cranny?_ She set her purse down on the table that sat next to a large picture window and looked out to the beach while she waited for Dick to return. The sky was blue with minimal clouds and there were beach-goers enjoying their Sunday afternoon. Dick saying she was a hot new girl was an interesting tidbit, she thought. Not sure what to make of it, Mac stared out at the scenery, lost in thought.

She jumped with surprise when Dick cleared his throat behind her. Self-conscious, Mac turned on her heels to face him. Dick stood grinning at her obnoxiously with a beer in his hand. Only that moment did she realize that he looked as if he'd just come from the ocean; his hair was semi-plastered to his forehead and though his shirt was dry, his shorts were damp.

He tipped the beer in her direction. "Want one?"

"No, thank you," she answered primly, stepping away from the window to pull a chair out from the table and sit down. She looked pointedly at the way he was dressed. "I thought we were in a hurry to get to Santa Anita."

"Eh," Dick said, making a big show of turning to look at a large clock in the shape of beer bottle, "There are races all day."

"Well, aren't you worried about getting there to help Logan out?"

"Well, yeah, but the big race isn't until four. If Sean's there, he's there to stay. We got a while yet."

"We're not really going to watch the race, Dick," Mac reminded him, trying to contain her irritation, "We need to get out of here before TMZ or whoever starts hounding you for information. Have the cops been here at all yet?"

"They stopped by this morning first thing, sniffing around. I told them to show me a warrant or I wasn't lettin' them in. It's a good thing Logan told me zilch-o about his whereabouts, you were right on the money there!"

"What about the media?" Mac asked, "Have they been around?"

"There was a card stuck in the door after I got back from surfing. Like I'm gonna talk to those cock-suckers." Dick made a face.

"We still need to get out of here, like as soon as possible. I'd feel better about this whole thing if we could just get out of Neptune for a while. If and when the cops come back, I don't want to be here."

Dick held his hands up, one still firmly holding his beer. "Fine. Fine, you win. I'll go change." With that, he took a large swig and set the now empty bottle down on the table. He turned and headed back down the hallway, leaving Mac once again to her own devices.

**Break**

Veronica scrolled through the scanned pages, speed reading as she went. Years of reading legal documents had taught her how to quickly skim and still retain all the important details. There was a lot of missing information, she decided. Most of the report was vague. Nowhere within the report did Lamb mention having even attained a warrant for Logan's arrest.

It was as if Lamb had released a bogus story to the media just to get the public to think that Logan was evading the police.

 _Well, he is now,_ she thought.

"What do the reports say?" Logan asked from the back seat.

She threw a hand up in the air to shush him. "Just a minute." Veronica clicked open the report Lamb had sent over concerning Sacks' death. After a few minutes of skimming, she murmured, "Wow. This is so…incomplete. It mentions you, Logan…but…there is a witness...ugh…it's Vinnie Van Lowe!"

"Vinnie Van Lowe, our illustrious former sheriff?"

"The very one. Apparently, he was in the neighborhood, tracking one of dad's neighbors for infidelity. He just 'happened' to be there."

"My ass he just happened to be there."

"I know." Veronica slowed her pace to read the transcript if Vinnie's statement out loud, "'There were no other vehicles on the street except this fancy blue Beamer. When he pulled up, Mr. Echolls looked suspicious to me. He had the look of someone casing a joint. I've done this kind of surveillance for years, ya know. He was there for a reason. He sat in the car, all quiet like, and bam! That little truck came out of nowhere and hit the little Metro or whatever tin can thing that was in the road. And yeah, I was in the house across the street, way up in the attic, I couldn't get down in time to help. But I watched that ass just sit there and watch it all go down, and then the truck came back and bam! Hit the car a second time. All the sudden, I look and there's a guy that's come out of the house Echolls is parked in front of. And suddenly, Echolls gets out lookin' all concerned and then suddenly the guy's like the hero…taking charge and yanking the people out of the car, acting like he's gonna save them. I know a guilty party when I see one. He orchestrated the whole thing.' " She stopped reading and looked back at where Logan sat, open mouthed, gaping at her.

"That whole account is bogus."

She nodded in agreement. "It's from Vinnie; of course it's bogus."

Next to her, Bunk piped up, "Is there a witness account from when the car blew?"

Veronica turned back to the tablet and opened the other report. "Lamb only sent some of this stuff…I think he's holding out on a girl…naughty boy." She swiped through the document and stopped. "There is an anonymous tipster that says they were on Rosart Street and saw you lean into the car and then bolt. Shit. That happened."

"Now what?"

"All of this is circumstantial. None of it is proof of anything. Vinnie's account is all conjecture. He's assuming he knows what you were thinking and why you were there. We know why you were there. Lamb doesn't."

"Lamb—"

"Lamb," Veronica interrupted, "thinks he's got you on a sinking ship. He has no brains; he makes his brother look like Einstein. He just told me on the phone that your motive is that they locked up your friends for Carrie's death. He thinks Carrie's dad hired Dad for the investigation. He told me that 'off the record'. Apparently, he has some scruples and isn't ready to publicly announce that Dad was hired for the investigation of Carrie's murder."

"No. What he has is ego. He doesn't want Keith Mars to get any credit for solving Carrie's murder so easily and so fast," Logan interjected. "So what is the motive for Sacks getting killed then? I can kind of understand his reasoning for Keith, but Sacks?"

"He's pulling stuff out of his ass, Logan. I don't think he thinks that he needs more of a motive than that." She sighed. "He said that they've opened your sealed record and other history…they know about all the other times you've been accused of murder. And…he brought up the fact that you were friends… 'good family friends'" she air-quoted, "with Cassidy Casablancas, a known maker and detonator of car bombs." Logan's face visibly paled. "He's completely off his rocker, Logan. We all know that Lamb will follow and/or make up any lead in order to make himself look important. He's never gone against me, though, and he has no idea what's in store for him." She smiled. "I'm emailing the pictures we took at Dad's office to Martina Vasquez right now. And then…I think we ought to try our luck at the races."

**Break**

Dick folded his large frame into the passenger seat of Mac's little Smart Car. She pushed the start button and then backed out of the driveway while he adjusted the seat and tried to make himself comfortable. Taking great pains to keep her eyes on the road, she ignored Dick as best she could while he fought with the seat belt and the bottom seat bar to push the seat as far back as possible.

"Man, I know you're little, Mack-a-roonie, but this clown car is a bit ridiculous. Did Ronald McDonald give you a good deal?" Still struggling, Dick huffed, "We should have taken my Rubicon."

Mac rolled her eyes and merged into traffic. "Well, if you'd have offered sooner…"

"You can always turn around."

"Don't tempt me; I may just leave you curbside."

**Break**

"So do you know anything about the races?" Dick suddenly asked a while later when Mac was changing lanes.

She glanced at him quickly and then turned her attention back to the road. "Uh, well, no, not especially. Growing up, horse racing wasn't exactly a McKenzie past time; we're more into NASCAR and football."

"When we first get there, we'll want to get an idea of which one to bet on," Dick informed her, "We'll go down and take a look at the all the horses as they're parading them around before they head to the starting gate. Might as well have a little fun on this mission, huh?"

Mac tightened her hands on the wheel. "Whatever's normal, Dick, so no one wonders what you're doing; that's all I really care about."

"Now, Mackster!" he protested, "If I don't take my date down to the walking ring, it wouldn't be legit, you hear what I'm saying?"

"I really don't know derby-etiquette, unless it's demolition style," Mac retorted, ignoring the unexpected thrill the word 'date' gave her, "I guess I'm gonna have to trust you."

"Good." That seemed to satisfy him. "There are a bunch of races today; but the one I usually place my bets on is the last up of the day; it's the biggest and most important race, so I have to stay to see it through."

"Your 'bets', plural?" Mac asked, giving him a quick look.

"Yes, plural." Dick answered, "It's called a trifecta."

"A tri-whatta?"

"Tri-fec-ta," Dick repeated slowly, "It means I'm betting that three specific horses will place first, second, and third."

"That sounds risky," Mac murmured, "Do you always bet that way?"

"It's the best pay out, so yeah," Dick said exuberantly, "Just wait till you get there, you'll see. It doesn't feel as risky when you're in the middle of it. It's more like…" he bobbed his eyebrows, "stimulating."

She bit her lip and did her best to concentrate on the road. "Uh…do you usually win?"

"Eh, ya know when you go as often as Logan and I do, you're bound to win once in a while."

She looked over at his grin. He looked all too pleased with himself. "Once in a while? That sounds like code for a lot."

He gave her a sly wink. "Hmm…maybe."

After returning his grin, Mac focused back on the road.

They continued and Dick started skimming through the radio stations, belting out songs from time to time. Mac found that she almost preferred it when he was being the typical loud mouth Dick. It actually helped to loosen Mac's nerves and relaxed her enough that she was even able to banter with him about his choice of music. It surprised her when she felt a little disappointed that it took less than half the time she'd estimated it would take to get to the Park.

The parking lot was filled to capacity with cars. As Mac and Dick stayed close together as they walked toward the gate, so as not to lose one another in the thickening crowd. She glanced at him covertly as she adjusted the sun hat she'd brought along. It was ironic to Mac how only the night before, she'd run away from Dick and now she was worried about losing sight of him.

It was just after one now. Dick had told her on the way over that different races were held every half hour until the final race at four. Because of this, Mac knew there would be bets made all afternoon and that, according to Dick, Sean would be making them. Apparently, Dick saw Sean at the tracks most every time he was there and Dick claimed Sean was well aware that he and Logan came to the tracks just as often when Logan was in town. As they walked, Mac swiped through her phone's menus to the app with the tracker that was attached to the money band. The little beacon blinked red on the screen and Mac was reassured to see that Sean—or at least the money band—was in fact inside the facility. The beacon that showed where Sean's sports car was, on the other hand, hadn't moved from where it had come to a stop the night before. But Mac wasn't overly concerned yet about that. All that really meant was that Sean wasn't driving the little sports car today. Since it was a known fact that he owned a second vehicle, it stood to reason he'd driven his SUV today.

It was critical to find Sean; they needed to know if he was just squandering the money on some random horse or if he was meeting someone here for a hand-off. Mac really didn't want to end up just tracking the cash back to a bank, but if that were the caes, it would be better to know now rather than waste resources chasing dead end. For Veronica's sake, Mac hoped Sean would drop the money off to someone that they could trace. If they were lucky, he'd pass if off directly to whoever had killed Sacks and hurt both Keith and Logan. A quick case could be made against him, and Lamb would have no choice but to lock him up. Do not pass Go.

"Should we call Logan?" Mac asked quietly. She turned to look up at Dick as they entered Santa Anita Park through the club entrance and headed toward the Kingsbury Fountain. Dick loomed above her and she squinted up at him, glad for the shade that her hat offered her now that the sun was beating down on them.

He pulled the aviators that he wore down and looked at her straight on, his gaze hot. "Logie-boy will call; I'm not worried."

They continued on a few paces before Dick turned back to her. "So I told you before that part of the fun was going to see all the horses up close so you get a feel for which ones ya wanna bet on." He jerked his head toward a crowd of people to their right before opening his Daily Racing Form to show her the list of horse names, "We gotta go over to the walking ring and look at them; do you like horses?"

His blue eyes were sparkling with expectancy, like a little kid waiting to show off a prized possession. She nodded lightly, trying to act nonchalant. "Horses are all right."

Unexpectedly, Dick took hold of her hand and pulled her through the crowd. "Hang on and don't get lost!"

"Not a chance with your Vulcan death grip," Mac grumbled under her breath as she raced after him, praying he wouldn't tear her arm from her socket.

 **A/N: Thanks again!**


	12. Chapter 12 The Park

**A/N: I really hate that I haven't posted earlier. I hope you all enjoy this! Thanks again to my Bond. Her advice and knowledge of the Horse Arena has helped a ton. A million thanks.**

* * *

 **Chapter 12 The Park**

It had been such a long time since Veronica had gone 'undercover' that she had the strangest case of nerves.

They'd hit a dress shop and purchased a new outfit for her on the way to Santa Anita. Bunk had whipped out his credit card and picked up the entire tab, from the hat to the dress to the shoes. Women always had to be a step above men in fashion wore at all times it seemed, no matter the situation. In a way, Veronica could have been annoyed by the double standard, but hell, it wasn't everyday a girl got some pampering, so she kept her mouth shut.

They'd decided that Logan should stay in his cowboy get up and keep his head down, so Veronica wasn't technically the only one to have to be dressed up in order to go to the races. Letting Logan come into the park was a risk, and they all knew it, but he'd pretty much insisted and Veronica had faith that he would be able to keep a low profile and not be recognized.

In all of her years living in Neptune, Veronica had never been to the races. As she and Bunk made their way to through the parking lot and toward the main entrance of Santa Anita Park, Veronica studied the other race-goers around them. No one looked familiar.

She looked covertly behind her.

"He's gonna be fine, you know. Nothing's gonna happen to him," Bunk said in her ear.

She slid her eyes over to him. "I'm not worried."

"I didn't think so." Bunk gave her a crooked smile. "Besides, worry has never gotten anyone anywhere."

They paid and went through the gate.

"Now where to?" Veronica asked, feeling a bit lost as she looked around at all the different people going in all different directions. Although Logan had told them which way to go once they got inside, she wished unexpectedly that he were with them to guide her.

"Head on over to the walking ring, I guess, and take a look at the horses that are up in the next race. Get ready to place our bets." Bunk took hold of her elbow and steered her toward the gated mini-track with the other spectators. "Come on, Sweetie, let's pick us a winner!"

**Break**

Dick led Mac through the crowd and toward the walking ring, where spectators were standing against a fence, watching the racehorses being lead in a loop around a large statue of a horse. Earlier, Mac had worried about being overdressed, but now she was glad she'd decided to go with the light floral dress and ballet flats. Although the flats weren't flashy compared to other women's fancy heels, they fit in well enough; plus she was able to walk in the dirt easily. She'd initially felt silly bringing the hat along; but Dick hadn't been lying earlier when he'd told her it was perfect. Every woman around her wore one, and it was easy to see that Mac fit right in as the requisite eye candy for Dick.

Which was precisely their goal. If Mac looked as if she were Dick's date, no one would think twice about her, and she could easily watch for Sean. Mac looked about the crowd nonchalantly. She felt as if he might materialize out of nowhere beside them.

As they neared the fence, Dick said to her, "Pick your favorite horse, Mac. I'll place a bet for ya." Still holding her hand, Dick pointed to a Thoroughbred trotting by. "Word is that there's fierce competition in the next race coming up."

"I can place my own bet, thank you," Mac told him, her eyes captivated by the sleek-looking horse adorned with flashy silks that matched his jockey's. She knew nothing about horses, but she could tell that the creatures before her were quite special. There was just something horses that could be easily defined as magnificent. She leaned into Dick and murmured, "But don't you think we should go find Sean?"

"You told me to do what I always do, Mac. If you want me to act normal, this is normal." He nudged her. "Pick a horse."

He was right; they did need to act normal. She watched the horses being led around and smiled. Each really did seem to have its own distinct personality. The excitement seemed to be radiating off of them all in anticipation of their upcoming race.

"Do you normally bring women to the tracks?" she heard herself ask, but, quickly realizing how she sounded, she backpedaled by sputtering, "I mean, not that it matters to me, but we're going for normal here and if it's not normal then—"

"Mac, relax," Dick interrupted her with a big grin. "No one will think twice about you being my date. You're hot, you're here, and you're mine. End of story."

His words sent a jolt down her spine. Not looking at him, she pointed to a pretty little filly scampering by. "I like that one. What's her name?"

"Er…" Dick mumbled, squinting to get a better look and then checked his Daily Racing From. "That one's named Algorithm Strider. Fitting."

"I like her," Mac said. She turned to him, "Which one are you gonna bet on?"

"Oh…I'm gonna let you have this one. I told ya, I'm betting on the last race. Let's go on up to the betting counter and get a ticket."

They turned to make their way into the large building that lead to the tracks and as they did so, a woman in a pretty yellow dress with a matching hat caught Mac's eye. She looked closer and realized why when the woman's blue eyes zeroed in on hers.

Veronica nodded her acknowledgement and Mac gave a very slight, startled smile back when she and Dick passed her. There was an older man with her friend; Mac felt Dick tense beside her as they brushed past the other two.

Starting down the walk, Mac whispered, "Do you know who that is with her?"

"I do," Dick answered, "And if he's involved, Logan's more worried than I thought."

**Break**

Logan entered through the Grandstand turnstile alone and checked his phone. Veronica had installed Mac's tracker app on it earlier so that he could split from her and Bunk remain in the loop. The three of them had split up earlier, and Logan had dawdled his way through the parking lot long after the other two had left him.

He already knew what bet he wanted to place, so he made his way to electronic betting station. He pulled out the credit card that Bunk had handed him, swiped it, made the necessary requests to place his bet, and waited for the ticket to spew out of the machine. Keeping his head down, Logan stuffed the ticket into his wallet and made his way to the general seating after checking his phone one last time. Most people were on the Infield milling about or in the walking ring looking at the horses and their jockeys, but Logan had no time for that. He wanted to get his place in the grandstands as quickly as possible before he had to fight for a spot to sit. It was imperative that he have a clear view of the box seats, because that's where he figured Sean would be.

Pulling the cowboy hat down lower on his head, Logan kept a steady pace to the stands. He made no eye contact as he started up the stairs, feigning interest in finding a place to sit while keeping an eye out for Sean. The beacon on his phone wasn't helping as much as he'd hoped; it didn't seem to show altitude. Maybe Mac knew the secret to get the location more precise, but Logan sure didn't. Giving up on the phone, Logan found an empty spot and sat down, carefully pulling his jacket he wore tighter into him, giving his now aching arm the support it needed and then opened the racing schedule to pretend to look at it.

***Break***

There were people everywhere. The crowd was thick. "Let's go upstairs. I want to place the bet at the Club House level betting bar," Dick said she placed a hand on the small of Mac's back and pushed her toward the stairs.

Because Dick was Club House patron, he had a box seat reserved on the mezzanine deck. It was a kind of VIP club for bidders, those who wanted to spend the extra money so that they could have room to spread out and not have to sit by complete strangers. Dick had informed her that Sean sometimes paid to have the privacy as well, but that it wasn't a given. Sometimes he'd found that it was better to be over in the Grandstands area because that was where a person could get the lowdown on which horses were favored for a race. The plan was to walk up to the Mezzanine and then head to the Grandstand while looking for Sean. But before they could do that, Dick needed to place the bet.

Dick gave her an assessing look. "Now. Tell me. How much do you want to place on Algorithm Strider?"

She returned his look. "I have…" she squint her eyes and gave him an impish grin as she dug into her clutch, "five dollars. Go to town with it. Knock yourself out." She pulled the money out and waved it at him.

He blew out a breath and shook his head. "You're killing me, Smalls." He looked as if he might refuse her money, but at the last minute, Dick suddenly pulled her into an empty spot against a wall and gave her a stern look. Gingerly, he plucked the Lincoln from her fingers. "Wait right here. I'll go place your bet and then we can work our way to my box." With a last look, he turned and headed off toward the betting counter.

"Thank you!" she called out after him. He raised a hand in acknowledgement, but didn't slow down. She turned in a circle and pulled out her phone to locate Sean.

**Break**

 _I'm in the nosebleeds. Grandstands, top row, Section H. No sightings. Going for a walk soon. –L_

Veronica read the text again and then slipped the phone into the pocket of her dress.

The crowd in the walking circle was a claustrophobic's nightmare. Veronica, alert as ever, didn't let it bother her as she worked her way through the people.

"So, sweetie, which of the horses do you like the best?" Bunk asked loudly beside her, struggling to keep up.

Veronica turned back and looked over at the group of horses. "Oh, Dad, it's just so hard to choose! Maybe you should choose this first race."

Bunk gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well, I kind of wanted you to pick one. But we better get up there, the race is about to start."

They walked through the group of people and then down the long walkway that led from the walking ring to the grandstands, all the while keeping their eye out for anyone they might recognize.

***Break**

Mac was frustrated. The beacon was showing that Sean was in the park, but she had no idea exactly where. _When I get to work tomorrow, we're working on this issue,_ Mac vowed. _Knowing the coordinates, but not whether Sean's in the basement or the top floor is unacceptable._ She typed in some code to no avail and became even more irritated with the lack of more precise information.

Dick interrupted her efforts when he returned from the bidding counter. He handed Mac a ticket. "Here." She looked at it blankly. He gave her an odd look and pressed, "That shows that you bid on Algorithm Strider for the next race."

She took the paper and without a glance stuffed it into her clutch. Dick then handed her a schedule that had the breakdown of each horse, which she took and tucked under her arm.

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks."

"Did you figure out where he is?" Dick asked, pointing to the phone in her hand.

She rolled her eyes. "No. But I _do_ know what my team needs to focus on now. Precise location."

"Bummer. Well, let's go see if my old-fashioned eye-sight gets us further than your geek-squad creeper-stalking." He pointed a thumb in that the direction the crowd was moving. "The race starts in ten minutes; we better hustle so we can watch."

"Wow, you know," Mac commented, "We're really not here for the race; does it really matter if we watch it?"

He gave her an incredulous look. "It's hard to not take it all seriously when money is at stake."

"It was only five dollars!" Mac laughed as they rounded the stairs that led up into the mezzanine. "I think you can relax."

"It may be 'only five dollars' to the cause for you, Mackster," Dick said as he let her go ahead of him, "But every bet has the potential of a high return."

"Says the man who once spent ten dollars per 09er girl's purity test result in order to find out which one was the loosest in high school. How did that investment go for ya?"

"Oh, shit."

Dick's tone stopped her playful banter and Mac looked back at him, concerned. "What?"

"Uh...nothing…Just put on your best date face," he muttered, not looking at her. Louder, in a false, friendly tone, he called out, "Seannie, my man! You came out for the races today, too? Good to see you!"

Horrified, Mac swiveled around to where Dick was looking to see Sean Friedrich pushing his way past the other spectators to reach them. She plastered a smile on her face as Dick wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into him possessively.

They stood in the middle of an aisle and people were pushing their way around them. Mac felt as if she were standing in a spotlight and that everyone could see how awkward she felt. This was not what she had thought would happen at all. She'd assumed that Sean wouldn't take any notice of them, and even if he did, he would give Dick maybe a simple acknowledgement like a wave or a nod.

Sean had a very intent look on his face as he drew nearer and she could tell that this wouldn't be a casual meeting at all. He was tall, just as Mac remembered, but his features were gaunt from obvious drug use; his teeth were disgusting. In the bright light it was noticeable, and she wondered fleetingly why someone with money would allow their teeth to rot. The night before at the reunion, she hadn't talked to him or even gotten near enough to actually note any of this. Now that he stood before her, she realized that the past ten years had not been kind to him. It was obvious he'd lived a rough life.

"Dick," Sean all but sneeered, his eyelids barely open as he appraised them both, "Who's this?"

The hair on the back of Mac's neck stood up straight when Sean's eyes penetrated hers. He positively creeped her out. She forced a smile on her lips and leaned into Dick, putting both of her arms around him, effectively closing herself off from Sean and giving the control over to Dick. Dick, in response, ran his hand up her bare arm, causing a lightning bolt to jolt through her. She was surprised to realize that his nearness made her feel safer.

"My lady-friend here is Cindy; don't you remember her from Neptune High? We ran into each other last night, man, and I couldn't get enough of her!" Dick looked down at her adoringly. "She agreed to let me show her a good time at the tracks today."

Sean grunted. "Hmmm…you're right to bring her up here. You two should sit with me in my box for a while, and we can shoot the shit. Unless…is Logan here with you, too?"

Dick was still looking down at Mac when Sean asked that, and his eyes widened so quickly that Mac would have missed it if she hadn't been looking straight at him. Recovering quickly, Dick glanced over at Sean and shrugged. "No, man, Logan went back to the base Friday night." He laughed. "At least, that's what he told _me._ Sometimes I just gotta let him fly, dude."

Sean stared at him for a moment, as if scrutinizing Dick's answer. Just as Mac was getting nervous that he wasn't buying Dick's story, Sean suddenly smiled a smarmy smile. "Well, that's good Logan's serving the country. Isn't he the noble one?" He gestured for them to follow him. "I'm over this way."

Dick looked down at Mac and shrugged. When Sean turned away from them, Dick said to her under his breath, "I'm a bloodhound, baby, I could sniff him out every time."

He slid his hand into hers and squeezed it reassuringly. She squeezed back in answer and together they followed Sean.

The mezzanine deck wasn't as packed with people as the lower levels, but it was still full. They passed every box seat on the row until Sean finally stopped abruptly at the end and motioned them into the last box. When she and Dick entered it, Mac realized there was already a man seated inside.

"Have a seat, lovebirds," Sean offered, pointing to the back two chairs. "Maybe later we can head up to the Chandelier Room. There's a chef in from Italy. Supposed to be ah-mazing."

They sat and the man already sitting turned to look at them as they did so. Sean noticed right away and said, "This is Manny, Manny, this is Dick and…" he looked at Mac and she inwardly rolled her eyes. "Uh…"

Good thing she had been hoping Sean wouldn't recognize her. "Cindy," she supplied, giving the man a small finger wave. Her fingers stopped mid-wave when she realized that she recognized him.

It was Manny Rose.

***Break***

Logan spotted Sean not long after he'd sat down. The seat he'd found was on the top row of the bottom of Section H, which afforded him a clear view of the box seats in Section G. For the past ten minutes, he'd been trying to figure out whom was sitting next to Sean, but the mystery man never turned in Logan's direction. Then, just moments ago, he'd just watched in fascinated dismay as Sean had approached Dick and Mac halfway up the Mezzanine. And then he observed with equal alarm, his friends following Sean over to his box seats, just below and to the right of where Logan was sitting. Obviously, the couple had been invited to sit next to Sean and hadn't known how to get out of the invitation.

But maybe it could work in their favor.

Sean's guest turned to greet the other two. Logan was ready with his phone, and he quickly snapped a picture and sent it off to Veronica.

**Break**

Mac had to fight to keep her eyes from widening in shock. In an effort to conceal her shock, she sat down in the hard plastic chair and stared out onto the track and let her mind race. She wondered if Dick had any idea who Manny was or if he'd ever met him before. Most likely not, since Sean had just introduced them as if they were meeting for the first time.

She stole a glance over at both Manny and Sean. The article she'd tagged for Veronica from Keith's inbox flashed through her mind. When she'd tagged the email, she'd briefly looked over it even though all she'd been asked to do was note the last few things Keith had opened. She remembered the main point of the article was that Manny Rose had gotten out of his sentence in exchange for handing over information. She wished now that she'd paid more attention to what it had said.

Discreetly, she pulled her phone out and sent a text.

**Break**

Veronica's burner phone pinged in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out. There were two texts, one from Logan and one from Mac.

Logan's had a picture attached. She swiped it open to reveal a grainy picture of a dark haired man with the caption, _Familiar?_

 _Not really,_ she thought but attempted to enlarge the picture. Unfortunately, that only served to make it more grainy and impossible to inspect. She swiped out of Logan's texting thread and opened Mac's.

 _Manny Rose with SF –_ Mac

Quickly, Veronica swiped back to the picture and looked closer. To Logan, she text:

 _Where are you?_

 _Top row, bottom Section H. You?_ –Logan

 _Betting counter and then to the grandstands._ –Veronica

 _I spy with my little eye an open row of seats._ –Logan

Veronica smirked and quipped back:

 _No delay, we're on our way, so cool your cowboy feet._

She popped the phone into her clutch as she and Bunk moved away from the betting counter. They each pocketed their betting tickets and made their way to the stands.

"The best seats are apparently in Section H," Veronica told Bunk, motioning toward the entrance that led to Sections H and J. "We can see everything we need to from there."

"I'm sure glad we got some good advice, honey." Bunk placed his hand at the small of Veronica's back as they walked. "I wouldn't know which way to go."

They started up the stairs, and just as Logan had promised, there some open seats about half way up. After scooting past four or so people, they settled into the seats and then looked around.

"Quite the day, huh, honey?" Bunk commented.

The sky was blue, the wind was calm, and it was a beautiful day at the tracks. If she weren't working a case, Veronica could kind of see the appeal of the whole Santa Anita experience. The crowd tittered anxiously and people craned their necks in anticipation when the announcer came on, his voice echoing throughout the park. She could have easily been swept up in the excitement of it all if only she could relax.

Ignoring the booming voice over the speakers, Veronica casually turned her body toward Bunk and swept her eyes up to the top row, nonchalantly looking for Logan. Her dark sunglasses hid her eyes and the wide-brimmed hat concealed her face well enough that she felt bold in her search. No one paid her any mind anyway, and she found whom she sought quickly.

Logan sat on the top row of the bottom part of their section, just as he'd said. She followed the direction of his gaze and saw exactly what held his attention: the box seats in the section beside them. And in the closest one was Sean, with Mac and Dick. And Manny Rose.

She swiveled herself around and pointed out to the track, "Looks like things could get exciting."

"Do you think we'll win our bet?" Bunk asked, giving her a look that meant he knew full well what she meant by 'things'. "Those horses look like anyone of them could win."

"I don't know." She leaned in and informed him, "Our friends got a box seat…and are, uh…sitting _together_."

Bunk rested his elbows on his knees and nodded, looking down onto the field. "Speaking of those two…they sure looked like they were having a great time. Laughing and carrying on. Are they really together?"

The question caught Veronica off-guard. Without thinking, she replied dumbly, "Mac and Dick?" A laugh bubbled up out of her throat. Bunk was quite the matchmaker. "Not in a million years."

***Break***

Even though Mac was on high alert, Dick's excited energy was contagious. It was obvious that he truly enjoyed the races and knew a lot about them. She kept her ears open to anything Sean was saying to Manny, but she realized rather quickly that the two men didn't talk much.

"This race coming up is a sprint—real short and sweet. It'll be tight. Your little filly should do nicely," Dick told her. "We're close to the finish line; see it right over there?" He pointed, and she dutifully looked. "Algorithm Strider will be break maiden of her race."

"Break maiden?"

"Just a name for a horse when it wins for the first time."

"You're just lording your knowledge now," she told him with an eye roll. "Popping one's cherry on the race track shouldn't have a name."

He hooted with laughter. "Well, right now she _is_ considered a maiden."

"Seriously, who comes up with this terminology? Only a man has to have a name for something's first time." He laughed uproariously and she grinned back at him. "Tell me some more."

"The lady likes sexual innuendo. I like it." Dick's grin widened and he promptly obeyed.

**Break**

The race had finally begun. Even though Logan normally loved the races, today he barely heard when the bell rang out and the horses skyrocketed out the gates. His attention was captivated by other things: one being the group to the right of him and the other being the pretty blonde a few rows below him. Every turn of her head would catch him, and he had to purposefully keep himself from staring at her.

Cowboy clothing sure didn't breathe. That's all he knew for sure. His feet were on fire and the jacket was stifling; he figured he was pulling off the look, but, _God,_ his shoulder ached. He squirmed in his seat, trying vainly to get more comfortable.

What a whiner he'd become.

Instead of watching the horses run along the backstretch, Logan typed a text:

 _I see you found me. Where to next?_

 _Oh, I'm disappointed. No rhyme time? –_ Veronica

When he read that, Logan grinned and shot back:

 _What's lost's been found, do we stick around?_

 _Better, butter –_ Veronica

 _I guess we're swinging from the Chandelier? –_ Veronica

Logan stared at that for a moment and then realization dawned. The Chandelier Room was an exclusive area within Santa Anita an area that he'd been inside only a handful of times.

 _You know you can't just go in there, don't you?_ –Logan

 _But I'm with B plus I'm special –_ Veronica

 _You may look damn hot in that number but I still don't think they'll be swayed, sorry_ –Logan

When she got that text, Veronica twisted in her seat and shot him an unabashed glare.

 _You've forgotten how I work, dear._ –Veronica

 _Endearing nicknames now? Well, I haven't forgotten you're a Bobcat. Be careful –Logan_

***Break***

 _"Smooth Sis is away well…but Golden Playgirl immediately pulls ahead, with Lucky Star falling back. Algorithm Strider is pushing in on the inside, edged out by Promise Of Spring. Then we come back to Golden Playgirl...Golden Playgirl still in the lead. Algorithm Strider has taken a strong hold, now…pushing hard from the inside. Forest Mist is now in the rear. Stuck in the middle are Jungle Storm and Smooth Sis, our early leader. And it's Golden Playgirl…Golden Playgirl setting a fast pace in the lead. In the second spot is Algorithm Strider followed by Promise of Spring. On the outside of Promise of Spring is Lucky Star."_

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the horses rounded the last stretch and made their way to the finish line. Mac stood up along with everybody else to watch, a strange adrenaline pumping through her blood as the announcer's voice became more excited and rushed as the horses neared to the finish. She popped on her tippy-toes to try and see over Sean, just now realizing that she was too short and he was too tall to see over.

"Do you want me to put ya on my shoulders?" Dick asked over the roaring crowd. "You know I would."

"Just watch the race, perv!" She rejoined, elbowing him hard in the ribs when he reached out as if to lift her up. "I'm used to making my way in the world on my own two feet."

She ignored him when he answered glibly, "But you might enjoy it more in my arms."

The horses were neck and neck. Mac couldn't see the filly she'd liked so well in the midst of the horses, they all looked so similar.

 _"Here we go, approaching the last pole… Algorithm Strider is pushing in on our leader for the win. It's Algorithm Strider and Golden Playgirl neck-in-neck in the last stretch. Promise of Spring is pushing hard from the outside. Smooth Sis, making a valiant effort on the right, stuck in fourth. They come for home… Algorithm Strider pulls ahead…now a neck ahead…and it's Algorithm Strider. Algorithm Strider will win it!"_

In a flash, the race was over, and people were settling back down in their seats. The announcer came on and the big screen flashed the winners' names.

 _"In first place, we have a break maiden, ladies and gentlemen. This is Algorithm Strider's first win of her first season. I see a great future for this filly. Algorithm Strider of Matrix Slider, ridden by Gary Stevens, owned by the Hicks Family Trust. Amazing win. As they make their way to the Winner's Circle…"_

Mac looked closely at the image of the horse and jockey on the big screen. "That horse…doesn't look right to me, Dick. That's not the one that I pointed out to you."

Barely glancing to where Mac was pointing to the screen, Dick shrugged. "Eh, you probably just aren't remembering what she looked like."

"Dick! Of course I remember which one I picked! And that is not her!" She hit his arm. "I can't believe you!"

"What?" He looked at her with a smirk. "Tell me you wouldn't have bet on Algorithm Strider just based on her name? That filly you liked so much, there was no way she'd have ever have won. It was like Algorithm Strider was born for you to bet on. I just…helped you along."

"You're impossible!" Mac replied, unable to contain her laugh. He looked like the cat that swallowed the canary. "How much did I just win?"

"Oh…you just made a pretty good sum. Do you trust me?"

She gave a look of incredulity. "Not really! You just buffaloed me into betting on a horse I'd never seen."

"Pshaw! You'll get over it. Did you even look at the betting ticket I handed you?"

"Erm…no…"she said, guiltily pulling it out of her purse.

"Well, I parlayed the bet. We got another couple races to go until we know how you did."

She looked closely at the betting ticket and sincerely wished she understood what she was looking at. "What have you done to me?"

"Just relax and let the Dickster handle the fun, I've got skills, baby."

**Break**

Logan watched the group of four in the box next to him as they stood up and made their out of the box in the direction of the Chandelier Room.

Below him, Veronica and Bunk stood up together and pushed their way through the row of people and out onto the aisle, then slowly made their way down the stairway.

He didn't want to sit here and watch while the races switched out, so he too stood up and checked his phone at the same time. The money was moving across the Section H just as Sean was. So, down the stairs Logan went, keeping a steady distance from Veronica and Bunk.

Veronica seemed to think she was going to have no problem getting into the Chandelier Room. Experience told Logan that it was easier said than done. They hadn't paid or entered through the Club House entrance, and therefore getting admittance to that side of the park was going to be tricky. Veronica was nothing if she not cocky. She'd always been that way, bulldozing her way through situations as if she belonged. And hell wouldn't have it if she were denied what she wanted.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope everyone has a great New Year! Reviews are always welcome!**


	13. Chapter 13 The Chandelier

**A/N: I have to give credit to my beta, Bond, for the dialogue in the previous chapter along with a little of this chapter, of the announcer's ramblings of the race. She has much more experience in all of that and helped me out immensely. Kudos to you, Bond. Thank you. Thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favorites. They are all appreciated.**

* * *

Chapter 13 The Chandelier

Mac slowly followed Dick, who was walking along side of Sean, chatting it up. The buzz of the crowd made it impossible for her to hear what they were talking about, but Mac wasn't interested anyway. She pulled her phone out and discreetly checked the beacon tracker. It showed movement that coincided with them so Mac was reassured that Sean did, in fact, still have the money.

Her phone pinged and she swiped to the text that had just come in from Veronica.

 _Working our way in your direction._

She quickly sent off a reply and stowed the phone back in her purse. It was a relief to know that Veronica wasn't far from them. At least someone was watching their back.

Dick's loud laugh brought her out of her thoughts when he turned to pull her closer to him. His arm wrapped around her shoulders and he told her, "Sean here has complimentary passes into the party today. We don't have to stand in the loser line to get in." He looked over at Sean, who was watching them as they walked. "You're a good guy to know, Seannie Boy."

"Well," Sean said with a sneer on his face that Mac positively hated, "My rule is to take care of those who take care of me. We'll have a lasting relationship of mutual back-scratching, I think. There's a lot more where this came from for a good client."

They rounded the corner to the VIP entrance of The Chandelier Room and Sean pulled passes from his suit jacket. Each of them had to present an arm out to receive a wristband, and then they were in.

The room was an exceptional shade of white that complimented its granduer. There was a sweeping staircase that reminded Mac of something out of a fairy tale, majestic and elaborate. A grand piano sat next to tall windows that opened to a patio overlooking the track. True to its name, The Chandelier Room's crystal chandeliers elegantly hung above them, lighting the room richly. Mac was transfixed.

"Get yourselves a drink," Sean told them, "and have a seat. If you want, go out on the deck and watch the horses. I have…some business to attend to." He turned and was swallowed up by the crowd.

Mac stared after him, surprised at how effectively Sean had just dismissed them. She turned her gape to Dick. "He's got 'business'?" She drew her phone out and swiped through the screens.

***Break***

The minute that Veronica saw the line to get into The Chandelier Room she realized that Logan had been right. It would be harder than she'd thought to wander freely inside and find Sean. The amount of people waiting to be admitted made it clear that this was the place to be and that there was a high probability that Sean had gone there for a reason. Bunk stood next to her in the line while she weighed their options as to what to do next.

As they stood waiting in the line, Veronica kept her eyes peeled each time the door opened to admit the next group inside. Every few minutes, she'd catch a glimpse of Dick and Mac circling around inconspicuously. Dick seemed to be introducing Mac to some other high rollers in the room. At one point, Veronica even spotted Manny, who stood between her friends and the door, looking slightly out of place.

Bunk leaned in and whispered, "You know, they're in there with him."

Her phone pinged.

 _He just left us in here and is on the move._ –Mac

Veronica let that sink in for a moment. She looked around the area and her eyes lit on a familiar form striding past the line and away from the crowd at the Chandelier Room's door.

"Come on," she said urgently, pulling at Bunk's arm. "You're right, they're already in there. And we have bigger fish to fry."

***Break***

They followed Sean down the open corridor and out through an area that they hadn't come down before. Veronica kept her eyes on him and followed as far back as she dared, wishing she could be closer to ensure they wouldn't lose him.

A ten minute warning was announced over the loudspeaker just as they came to a wide area that branched out in all directions. As the words faded, the crowd jostled Veronica and she lost sight of Sean up ahead. She looked wildly in all directions, but Veronica couldn't place him. Grasping at straws, she looked down at the phone in her hand, hoping that it would shed light on where he'd gone. The beacon showed him veering off and heading toward the upper suites above the box seats, but when Veronica turned to look in that direction, all she saw were three women and the back of the head of an older man who bore no resemblance whatsoever to Sean.

It was clear to her that Sean had somehow made the drop, right in the middle of the crowd. Veronica was dismayed that she'd completely missed the most important moment of the exchange, and that she couldn't even see the man's face who had just taken the money. Unbelievable.

She whipped around to where Bunk stood behind her. "Did you see anything?"

He motioned down a corridor with his chin. "I think he might have gone that way."

"Okay—there is something I need to check out. You go that way and meet me back here in five minutes if you don't see him. Otherwise, call me."

With a nod, Bunk disappeared through the thickening crowd.

Turning on a dime, Veronica quit worrying about finding Sean and started up after the group that she now suspected had the money.

As she started up the stairs, an arm unexpectedly reached out and hooked her elbow, twirling her sharply away from the step she was about to take and into Logan's chest.

"What are you doing?" she demanded breathlessly, startled.

"I watched that whole thing," he said just loudly enough for her to hear over the crowd, "We need to get out of here."

***Break***

Things were starting to fall into place for Logan.

He'd slowly been making his way toward the Chandelier Room, pretending to be minding his own business as he casually watched for anything out of the ordinary. Or in other words, looking for Sean. It had been boring as hell, truthfully, until he'd spotted Veronica on the outskirts of the moving crowd, looking gorgeous in her little yellow dress and large-brimmed hat. He'd stopped and stared at her for a moment before realizing what she was so intent on: Sean. Once Logan had spotted Sean, he hadn't let his eyes stray back to Veronica again.

And that was why he saw what he knew Veronica must not have. He'd watched as Sean bumped into a man who was wearing a very expensive suit and who was flanked with three perfectly-coiffed women. The women had crowded around the two men while Logan watched with curiosity, wondering what exactly was going on.

Then the two men had broken away from each other, and Sean was gone. And when Logan had looked to Veronica, he knew she hadn't seen it. He'd quickly found the man with the three women, heading his direction and up the stairs. When the group had passed by Logan, unnoticed, _thank God,_ Logan had recognized the man.

Veronica had been almost sprinting up to the stairway when he'd grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side.

Presently, she was staring at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

He didn't want to take the time right now, but he knew that she wouldn't budge without some sort of reason.

So he said, "Do you know who Larry Morrison is?"

A brief look of confusion clouded her face. "Uh, the prostate cancer guy?"

"The very one."

Veronica looked toward the stairs. "That was him?"

"You didn't see his face?" Logan asked, a bit surprised that she even knew Morrison's name. "Would you have even recognized him?"

"Uhh…maybe?" She looked back at him, and her blue eyes were crystal clear. "Who is he to you?"

He shrugged. "Well, he was involved in the purchase of the 09er."

"The 09er?" Veronica asked, looking genuinely bewildered. "What does that have to do with the price of tea in china?"

 _She doesn't know,_ Logan realized. "Oh, uh…well, when Dick and I bought the building for the 09er, Morrison's fingers were in the pie."

"Wait, what? You own the 09er?" Veronica blinked and gave him an uncomprehending look. "And what do you mean, Morrison was involved?"

Feeling uneasy, Logan looked up into the stands to where Morrison's group was just now disappearing into their private suite. He looked back down to where he'd last seen Sean. Not seeing him, Logan turned back to Veronica, who was growing impatient.

"Logan, are you going to answer me?"

"Morrison is really important in Neptune," Logan told her as he ushered her away from the stairs and looked around for Bunk. "He's been involved in a lot of panels and he has a lot of sway. I pissed him off a couple years ago. I've heard rumors about how he runs the town's off-scene. If he donates to your project, that's basically the green light for permitting whether the city backs you or not." Spying Bunk, Logan motioned for the older man to follow and then made a beeline for the exit.

"Sounds like quite the charmer," Veronica quipped, adjusting herself out of Logan's grasp but kept in step with him. "So what did you do to piss him off?"

"It's a long story, but let's just say I'm a shrewd business owner and he knows it."

***Break***

Mac pulled on Dick's sleeve. When he bent down, she whispered in his ear, "I just got a text. They're leaving, but I think we ought to stay a while longer."

He straightened with a knowing smile on his lips. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? You can admit it, you know."

She scowled playfully. "You know, I could admit it, but then I'd have to kill you."

The chuckle was loud and he grinned. "I like a little pain."

 _Me, too._ The thought came out of nowhere and Mac looked away, under the guise of searching for Sean. "Are we going back up to the box seats?"

Dick seemed to sense that she wanted to drop their playful teasing. "Uh, well, no, not probably for a little bit. We can watch the race from the balcony…Sean probably will, eventually. If he comes back at all, that is. There are some nice seats out there." He took her arm and led the way.

"Can I ask why anyone would buy a box seat and then spend their time in here, where it costs an exorbitant amount just to get in? It seems counter intuitive."

"Oh, my dear Macalicious, how you underestimate the extent of entitlement. We flaunt it, you know." He opened the glass door that led outside and held it for her to pass under him. "If we saved our green, what would all these poor waiters and waitresses do without our tips?" As if to emphasize his point, Dick snagged two champagne flutes off of a server's tray and handed her one, throwing some bills onto the tray. He popped his eyebrows up and down, "Enjoy it, get to know it, maybe you'll get used to it and then you'll join me here more often."

The earnest sparkle in his eye made Mac's heart speed up and she took a large gulp of the Champagne. The fizzy, rich flavor filled her mouth as she turned her attention to the track. Leaning on the rail, she gestured with her hand that held the champagne flute out to the tracks, "Are you betting on this one?"

"It's already done. But for you, not me. Like I said, I parlayed your win over to this race and then the next."

"Whatever that means…" she murmured.

"It means if you win on this race, you're gonna get the motherload," he said, nudging her slightly. "You'll thank me later."

"How do you have so much confidence?" She nudged him back. "You're sure a cocky son of a bitch."

"Well, I gotta be something, don't I? And what would the world be like without some charm and poise?"

"Charm and poise only gets you so far; what about brains?"

"You've got enough brains for both of us, I'm thinking." Dick set his now empty flute carefully on the rail of the balcony. "Papa always told me to stay away from the ones with the brains. But I never did like his advice."

She smiled, keeping her eyes straight ahead. "So tell me about the parlay and how this magical parlay betting works. I ought to take notes if I'm supposed to come back."

**Break**

They didn't worry about being seen as they left. They were past caring by now and were more concerned with getting out of the area than worried about being spotted.

Veronica sat in the back seat of the car with Logan. Bunk started the engine and took off out of the parking lot.

"Tell me about Morrison."

Logan, who looked exhausted, took the big black hat off his head and threw it over the top of the passenger seat.

"Hey, kindness, man! That's a nice hat!" Bunk grumbled, signaling and turning out onto the highway.

"Stuff it, old man," Logan sniped, "I'm hot and my arm hurts like fuck, so lay off." To Veronica, he said, "Morrison has his fingers in a lot of pies."

"So I'm gathering."

"What do you know about him?"

"Uh…not much." She ticked off what she knew, "I know that he's really wealthy. He bought into a company that isolated a genome for prostate cancer, like I already mentioned. He's generous. That's about all." She thought of something else. "Oh, he donated a huge amount of money to fund the new town hall and sheriff's department."

"It's true he owns the biotech company." Logan said as he carefully leaned back. "Morrison likes good press. On the surface, he comes off as this heroic, generous man who would do anything for the common good. Experience has told me that he has an agenda at all times."

"An agenda, how?"

He sighed. "Okay. So Dick and I own the 09er, right?"

Veronica bit her lip. "So you said."

"Morrison…owned the building when we went to buy it. Before he got involved with all the genome crap, he made his money in real estate, not exclusively, but…I got the feeling he liked people to think it was a hobby, but he was pretty ruthless. I guess that's the word." Logan picked at some lint on his jeans, keeping his eyes transfixed on his knee. "Dick and I looked around a long time before we picked that neighborhood to build the 09er. That area was starting to get bought up and was becoming pretty mainstream; it seemed like a good spot. Lucrative."

"Seems to me like you had the agenda."

"Maybe. Probably, sure. I won't deny that Dick and I wanted to be successful. Doesn't anyone who opens a business want it to flourish?" Logan glanced at her quickly. "We all have to eat." When she didn't respond, he continued, "Anyway. I digress. We had a real estate attorney look into all the buildings and vacant lots in town…we were supremely surprised when this particular building popped up. Apparently, it had changed owners a few times over the years, but it was Morrison who owned it by then. There were a lot of small businesses within the building itself that leased the space. Morrison was asking an obscene amount of money for it. We knew that, to do what we wanted to the property, we would have to boot out all of the businesses on their asses..."

Veronica was starting to get a slightly suspicious feeling. "Logan…"

He avoided her glance and continued, "Dick wasn't real gung-ho with the area, but it's true, that neighborhood had begun to turn around. It once was a rougher area, but the past couple of years before we bought it, it had been getting more impressive. So…I hired an inspector come in and take a look at the building, to see how structurally sound it was and what kind of money we would need to put into it. Our vision was to have old warehouse glam…" he looked at her and shrugged, "but when the report came back, we were shocked at the news. The building should have been condemned years before, completely gutted and demolished. The fact was that Morrison had purchased the property with the sole intent to leech the rent off the businesses and then sell the sinking ship at the right time for the highest price."

Veronica felt like she was missing something. "That makes no sense; how did he think he could get away with that?"

"Well, that's the reason he's not my number one fan. From what my lawyer and our private inspector told us, the city hired inspectors and bought them off. They paid for the building to pass the inspection with flying colors because of who Morrison is and what he could do for the town."

Still feeling confused, Veronica mused, "But…when he went to sell, surely the potential buyers would have realized…"

"Well, that's the point. Most normal buyers in Neptune just wait for whomever to come inspect properties. We concluded that the banks and the city were working together. It was a good thing that I knew someone from the Navy and I chose to pay him to do the inspection. So, because I paid extra to have him come from out of town to do the inspection, Morrison got caught. The inspectors that are hired in Neptune tweak things for their own advantage. They were lining their pockets, and we didn't play their game. So…when we went into that meeting with Morrison's lawyers, we low-balled him because we knew what it was really worth and we showed them that we knew he'd been hiding the fact that it needed to be condemned. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Logan." Veronica waited for him to look at her before she asked, "Where's the 09er?"

"Mmm…in Neptune."

"Logan."

He sighed heavily. "It's…on Adams Avenue…on the corner that once housed Completely Video, Lestats, and—"

"Mars Investigations." She said the last in breathless unison along with him.

"Yup." He popped the 'p' with a loud pop.

"But…Dad said the building was completely destroyed because it had to be condemned. That doesn't sound like 'old warehouse glam' to me," Veronica commented. "And we went through the alleyway the other day, and I didn't recognize it at all. I didn't even know where we were."

"I couldn't comfortably walk away from that situation, Veronica. We decided to forfeit the warehouse idea, start fresh, and name it the 09er. That wasn't in the original plan."

"Why couldn't you walk away? You weren't invested yet."

"I have a heart," she thought she heard him mutter. Louder, he said, "If you find out there's a burning building, do you just watch it crumble to the ground, watch the people within it kicking and screaming, and do nothing? I may have done that in a past life, but I refuse to be that person ever again. We had to do something."

Veronica was quiet then, reflecting. She remembered the day that Keith had called to tell her that he was moving the office to a new location. Apparently, the building had been marked for demolition. He'd been excited; there was a settlement involved and he was getting a stipend for relocation. The whole block was to be renovated and all of the businesses on the street were being compensated to vacate and find new storefronts.

The one thing she remembered the most was that Keith had been able to put a huge down payment on his house that year. It was in a neighborhood and area that Keith was proud to call home and Veronica had been so happy for him.

She slid her eyes to Logan, who sat quietly staring out the back window. Logan was the reason, she realized. Logan was who had made the settlement happen; Logan was the one that called Morrison's bluff. Logan was why Keith was able to 'move up in the world'; Logan was why.

Logan.

Without any thought, Veronica reached out a put her hand on Logan's knee.

She didn't watch his reaction but she felt him stiffen. "Thank you."

**Break**

Logan swallowed around the knot in his throat, his eyes fixated on Veronica's fingers when she set them easily on his knee.

He debated for a moment whether or not to reach out and entwine his fingers in hers. His heart raced with the realization that Veronica was finally softening toward him. She was slowly thawing out from the angry iceberg she'd been less than one day earlier. The change in her was marked, and he was almost unsure of himself in the knowledge that perhaps Veronica's understanding of his life and ways were not as discriminating anymore. Maybe she was seeing him as less of the boy she'd once known and more of the man he'd actually become.

"Logan…" Veronica breathed his name slowly, her fingers feathering his knee lightly.

He was disappointed when she seemed to realize what she was doing and pulled her hand away. "What Morrison did….wasn't honest; he's not a good person. If… he's involved with Sean…this is dangerous. He has money, connections." She said the last with conviction. "This is big."

"Even the Big Bad Wolf has a weakness," Logan said after a moment's beat. All at once, his jacket felt too tight and it was way too hot in the car. He shrugged out of the confining fabric, careful to not knock his shoulder into the frame of the car, but stilled when he felt Veronica reach over help him. She pulled at the sleeves, and together, they got the offensive jacket off of him and he threw it to the front seat.

Next, he unbuttoned the ridiculous cowboy shirt and shucked it off as well, pulling it from where it was tucked into the waist of his jeans and letting Veronica help again. When the shirt joined the jacket, Logan gingerly pulled at the collar of his undershirt and touched the bandage at his shoulder carefully.

"Does it bother you much?" Veronica asked, craning her neck to look at the injury, which was opposite her.

Logan braced his arm against his chest and leaned his head back. "It twinges now and then. The doc said I would have a quick recovery, but I'm pretty sure the way I've been handling my 'recovery'," he air-quoted with his good hand, "I'm thinking the old doctor might be a bit…disappointed with my progress."

"Maybe you should rest when we get back."

"I'll be fine."

"Seriously," Veronica insisted. "You need to take it easy."

From the driver's seat, Bunk grunted, "He's seen much worse than this, I can tell you that."

Concern flashed across Veronica's features and Logan carefully avoided her glance. To Bunk, he quipped, "Yeah, from you, old man!"

"Ha, ha," Bunk said dryly. "If basic training didn't kill you, a measly bullet won't do it. Just remember to do your stretches."

Logan bit back a laugh. "Downward Dog ain't got nothing on you, Bunk. You won't catch me in your yoga class."

"Hey, you're missing out. Core strength isn't the half of it; the view is better."

Beside him, Logan could tell that Veronica was holding back a smile when she said, "So it really isn't 'Downward Dog' it's more like 'Dirty Dog'?"

"I never claimed I was blind." Bunk laughed. "Or stupid. If the ruse of a good stretch works, why wouldn't a red-blooded American man use things to his advantage?"

"You sound like Dick," Veronica grumbled, and Logan laughed.

***Break***

Horseracing was an unbelievable rush.

Mac was screaming and yelling along with everyone else, urging the horses closer to the finish line. Her hands were on the rail, and Dick stood next to her. They were cheering and jumping up and down together in their excitement. Farther down on the same balcony, stood Manny Rose, watching the race intently. Mac had kept him in her sights, careful to not get so carried away that she lost him in the crowd. She'd appointed herself his watchman, and was aware of how awkward and out of place he seemed in this environment. Some people, no matter how hard they tried, always looked dowdy and trashy, and Manny was definitely one of them. He had no class and there was nothing about him that would make people do more than avoid him.

This trait, she figured, was likely why he was the chosen henchman. She would bet anything that the reason Manny was with Sean was because the former was unmemorable, at least to someone not looking. Manny wasn't handsome in any way, there was nothing striking about him. He blended in with the crowd only in that he wore the mandatory jacket and Mac could tell he was purposely keeping a low profile.

She'd not seen Sean since he'd slunk out of the Chandelier Room's door; she expected that Manny was likely waiting around for the guy. She'd been expecting Sean to show up at any moment with an excuse of where he'd gone, but it had been more than an hour and he still hadn't returned. And now Mac was too engrossed in the race to care at the moment about Sean.

The horses were rounding the track and nearing the finish line, but there was one lone horse that had broken away from the group and was heading full speed ahead. His jockey was perched atop the saddle, bent low with concentration, and Mac could see that he was about to win. A second horse broke from the group and was swiftly gaining on the other.

Over the loudspeaker, the announcer's voice kept raising with enthusiasm, the rush of words coming in bursts that was muted by the roar of the crowd. The excitement in the air was tangible and everyone around her was watching the race intently. Beside her, Dick's arm was raised, his fist tightly clasped, and he was urging the horses with a loud expletive.

All at once, it was over. Dick scooped her up in his arms and lifted her up in his excitement, twirling her around before setting her back on her feet. With glimmering eyes, he yelled over the roar of the crowd, "We won!"

Mac's arms had wrapped around him as he swung her, and a moment later, she found her feet on the ground again, with her arms were still around his neck. Her fingers curled into the edges of his blond hair and she stared up at him, breathing hard from exhilaration. His large smile and bright eyes captivated her and she found herself unable to look away or let her arms drop.

Time stood still for a moment, and all Mac was aware of was how his gaze made her stomach somersault and how her already racing heart beat even more wildly. Air escaped her lungs and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. She was looking up at him and saw him bend down toward her.

She should have moved away, but Mac was so enthralled by Dick's expression that she stood stock-still, waiting. And then his lips were on hers. It was a hard and fast kiss; one that held promise of what could be, but chaste enough to not embarrass her in the public setting. When Dick pulled away, her eyes fluttered slowly open to meet his. The blue of his irises had turned a surprising smoky-hue, a color and description that Mac usually associated with a dark-eyed person; but it was definitely smoky. She was afraid to name it anything other than smoky because naming it would add too much meaning.

They broke apart then, their arms dropping awkwardly to their sides. Dick's expression had turned almost whimsical as he looked down at her, his tongue touching his top lip and a question in his eyes. Mac, ever the stoic person of denial that she was, broke their gaze and returned her attention to the track. Every horse had crossed the finish line by then and was being led off the track. She focused on her breathing and wished fiercely that she would cool down. Her entire body was flushed from being so wrapped up with the race and now their kiss had just added more heat to the fire. She really could not look at him again.

The crowd suddenly hushed, and Dick turned back to his post next to her and placed his hands on the rail. "So you ready to go collect our winnings? It's gonna blow your mind, man."

"How much can five bucks yield?" Mac asked flippantly. "I'll take my fifty bucks in winnings and buy a subscription to hulu plus."

"You are obviously not a gambler. A fifty ain't the half of it, my dear," Dick replied with an air of smugness, "Prepare to be blown."

"Now, what kind of lady would I be if I was waiting to be blown?" Mac snarked, grinning when his eyes widened. Great, she'd officially sunk down to his level. "However, all this talk of being blown away makes me wonder just how surprised I'm gonna be." Feeling abnormally gutsy, Mac held out her hand for Dick to take. "Lead the way, kind sir."

Dick tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow before giving a pointed look to where Manny was still standing against the rail. He looked tempted to say something to the other man, but seemed to think better of it. Instead, Dick led her away from the balcony and through the French doors that led back inside to the Chandelier Room. The club was slowly thinning of people now that the races were over for the day. With one last glance at Manny, Mac followed Dick through the doorway and looked around the room.

"Can we collect our winnings here?" Mac asked. "It would be nice to get on the road before the highway turns into a parking lot."

"Eager to get away from me so soon?" Dick jabbed her side lightly. "You don't have to sound so happy about it."

"Oh, you're an eighth grade girl, are you?" Mac sniped. "I can see it now, as soon as I drop you off, you calling Logan to obsess over whether the day was a success or not and worry about when I'll call."

"Ooh, _will_ you call?"

"Well, not today. Because I'll be with you."

"Fair enough."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks again! As always, Reviews are welcome. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14 Research

A/N: Thank you all for your interest in this story of mine.

* * *

Chapter 14

Research

There was security posted at the gate when they returned to Carrie's house. The guards were watching for them and opened the gate before Bunk had time to punch in the code.

Veronica sat stiffly beside Logan in the back seat. They'd been riding in near silence since Logan had laid his head back in obvious exhaustion and fallen to sleep. She supposed that his years in the Navy had taught him how to get rest whenever and wherever he could find it, but he looked terribly uncomfortable. In the front seat, Bunk had been wrapped up in the GPS's navigation and she'd sensed that the older man wasn't in the mood for a chat.

So Veronica had stared out her side of the window, deep in thought.

Mostly, she thought of the case and everything she'd learned in the past few days.

Manny Rose was, according to the Daily Neptune, a small time drug trafficker who had given up the names of two other dealers. He had some sort of connection with the police; again this was according to the Daily Neptune. He was keeping company with Sean Friedrich.

Sean Friedrich, alumnus of Neptune High, was a drug dealer consorting with Manny Rose. The two men had some sort of working or casual relationship. They were together at the horse races today, although, from what she'd witnessed, though they had sat together, they'd barely spoken. That confused her. Certainly, Sean would know that Manny had ratted out other people to keep his neck out of prison. She wondered just how Manny had picked which dealers got put away in exchange for his own freedom. From the looks of things, Manny knew more than just two other dealers.

Which led to the big kahuna himself. Larry Morrison, billionaire, investor, and all-around sleazebag. From what Logan had told her of the man, the guy was out for himself and no one else. Sure, he'd invested in a biotech company; that was admirable at face value. But deeper, the truth was not so romantic. He'd made billions off of the discovery.

Living in Neptune, Morrison was a big fish in a small pond. The city was expanding; more money was coming in, new businesses and buildings were being added every day. It was no crime that he'd been buying up properties that would have a good return in later years. The crime wasn't in his savvy buying strategy. But knowing that a property was condemned and having records changed was. Paying off inspectors so that he could make more money was sickening to Veronica. Knowing that Morrison had done his damage to the people on Adams Street in the old Mars Investigations building made her even angrier. Just how many people did he have in his pocket?

Morrison was the problem. Take Morrison down, the rest would just fall alongside him.

But how?

***Break***

Veronica was out of the car and making her way to the back door of the cottage before Bunk had even thrown the car into Park. She wasn't worried at that moment about Logan needing help getting out because she knew that Bunk would help him.

On her mind now were on the eyewitness statement that Lamb had unwittingly sent her from the night Jerry Sacks had died. Vinnie Van Lowe had given his statement as if he'd planned to be in her father's neighborhood that night and just happened to be at the scene of the crash.

She would bet her bottom dollar that Lamb had needed a witness and Vinnie Van Lowe had received the assignment.

Her thoughts shifted to the case files that Cliff had sent over the previous night. They were all the lost cases that Cliff had had her dad look over. She'd only briefly perused the files earlier, not really thinking much about them at the time. But now that she'd just realized that the name Vinnie Van Lowe had been in at least one of those reports as the PI for the prosecution, she believed it might best to give them a second look.

Why would the sheriff's department need to hire a PI firm?

Many years ago, Keith had been asked to step in during an investigation and was contracted to work for the sheriff. Part of that reason was because Keith had once been the sheriff himself and had a reputation for being impartial and on task. But Vinnie Van Lowe?

The year she'd left for Stanford, Vinnie Van Lowe had been elected sheriff over Keith. So, she supposed it was possible that Vinnie had a working relationship with the department now.

How she hated that things had become even more questionable in Neptune over the years.

If Vinnie Van Lowe was the source for all the 'breaks' in the cases that Cliff had lost, that meant that all of the information he was supplying was likely false.

It was time to find Mr. Vinnie Van Lowe.

***Break***

Logan dragged himself out of the back seat of the rental car and staggered up the stairs and into the kitchen. The drive mixed with his pain meds had made him queasy. But those two things combined with too much exertion made Logan feel lethargic and dopey.

Bunk followed him into the kitchen. Veronica had disappeared the minute they'd parked. Something was on her mind and she was on a mission. Logan wished only a little that he had more energy to care. When Veronica had suggested that he rest, Logan had balked, but now he realized she probably could see his exhaustion more plainly that he could.

"You're girl sure has her wheels turning," Bunk commented as he set the car keys on the island. "She's as sharp as a tack."

"Bunk," Logan said, trying his best to not sound irritated, "Honestly, you've got to stop that. She already told me that you think we're together."

"Don't you want to be together?" Bunk asked, his eyebrows raised. "Seems to me you've waited long enough."

"Long enough?" Logan shook his head, "Bunk, I haven't even talked to her in nine years! We don't even know each other anymore."

"Nine years ain't long in this world, Echo. As a fighter pilot, you ought to know that. Nine years ain't nothin'."

"Yeah, well, tell that to her." Logan ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes on the floor. He really didn't want to talk to Bunk about this right now. Veronica's actions all day had been a surprise, and to analyze it to death was more than he had energy for at the moment.

"You two can't see what someone looking in from the outside can see," Bunk said wisely, eerily echoing Logan's similar thoughts about not seeing his own exhaustion. "But nine years for you two is just a drop in the bucket." The older man paused for a moment when Logan turned around to look at him. "Do you know that some people wait their whole lives for the little bit that you already had with her? And to get it back…don't let it go this time, Echo. There isn't a good enough reason in the world to let it go."

***Break**

Five thousand dollars.

Mac had given Dick five dollars and he had turned it into five _thousand_ dollars.

When the clerk handed over Mac's winnings, there was a moment where she'd almost tried to give the cash back. Dick had laughed at her, taken the cash for her and then led her out to the parking lot. He'd then taken her car keys from her hand and helped her into the passenger side of her little car. Numb, she'd barely noticed when Dick crawled into the driver's seat and started the car. He'd made her put on her seat belt ("Put me in the driver's seat, baby, you never know where you'll end up!") before pulling out of their spot and into the line of traffic waiting to exit the park.

"Where are we headed?" Dick's question broke Mac out of her shocked daze.

She blinked. "Uhm…"she took out her phone and read a message that had come in from Veronica earlier. "Toward Big Bear."

" _Nice,_ " Dick quipped and stepped on the gas pedal, neatly steering the little car around a line of cars and quickly pulling out onto the highway. Behind them, someone laid on a car horn and she heard some yelling. "I have to admit, your Power Wheels here can dodge and dart pretty impressively," he dragged the words out comically. "It's small enough no one even knows you were there."

"Yeah, well, be careful with it. It's the only one I've got," Mac said, holding onto the dash as he whipped around more traffic. "You don't have to make it so people remember us."

"No one will remember this yawner."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

Dick casually flicked his eyes over to hers and shrugged before looking back to the road. "I just always took you for a step above this, actually. This car is _beige_ ," he faux-gagged and she smirked, annoyed, "and _boring._ Safe. You never used to be _safe._ What happened?"

"Beige and boring happens to be a very adult trend."

He guffawed. "Who needs more of that in their life? Where's the green VW girl I used to know?"

Mac chewed her lip. "Why didn't you tell me that I could win that much money on a horse that you chose out of your ass off of five bucks?"

"Because the alternative was much more fun to watch."

**Break**

Veronica's phone pinged telling her that Mac and Dick were on their way.

She was staring at the Google search she'd brought up which contained information about the PI firm ran by one Vincent Van Lowe. After reading it, she'd opened the email from Cliff and went through the cases he'd sent over to her. She wanted to get a better understanding of the cases that the attorney had lost over the past couple years. Almost every case involved lower-class blue-collared men being charged with anything from theft to drug trafficking. None of the cases involved the accused being offered or taking any sort of deal. The book, as they say, had been thrown at them.

What seemed interesting to Veronica was the lack of physical evidence in every case. Somehow, these men were picked up mid-law-breaking and thrown straight into the slammer. Cliff was their court-appointed attorney in the fifty-dollar suit who was supposed to happily collect his paycheck and move on with his life, no questions asked.

Instead, Cliff was documenting every strange case that came across his desk and filing it away with red flags,while biding his time.

Veronica picked up her phone and dialed, waiting for the call to connect.

"Talk to me," Cliff's deep voice came through.

"Cliffie."

"V."

"These cases. I don't like 'em."

"Too true, V. I knew you wouldn't. I've got more news you're not gonna like."

***Break***

She came out of the office in a stupor. Cliff had told her that Eli "Weevil" Navarro had been shot the night before. Even more unsettling was the fact that he was being charged with assault with a deadly weapon by none other than Celeste Kane.

Veronica sighed. She just couldn't seem to get away from the Kane's, no matter how hard she tried. Of course they were involved. Why wasn't she _not_ more surprised?

From down the hall, she could hear the sound of the television blaring loudly. She made her way to the family room where she found Bunk sitting in the easy chair watching the evening news. Logan was nowhere to be seen, and Veronica hoped that meant he had gone to lie down.

Veronica sat down heavily on the couch.

"They just played your pictures." Bunk took a sip from a bottle of beer she hadn't realized he was holding. "If I didn't know better, I would think you enjoy making enemies out of the fine men in blue."

She smiled. "Only on odd numbered days. And only in Neptune."

"Aha. There's the clincher. Must live in the 90909 zip."

"Enemy is a strong word."

"Would you dispute it, though?"

"Probably not." Veronica made herself more comfortable. "What did the report say?"

"Well," Bunk dragged out, "Martina Vazquez reported that Sheriff Lamb has no further comment at this time, but that she would have more from him on the nine o'clock news."

"Hmm…her charm didn't go over quite as well as it did earlier in the day? I can't imagine why he wouldn't want to talk to her about this."

Bunk grinned. "She did say that Lamb insisted he hadn't been…'apprised' of the situation or the pictures and wanted further investigation about whether the photos had been doctored. He's still searching for Echo as a 'person of interest.'"

"Speaking of Logan, were you able to talk him into resting?"

Bunk nodded and gestured to the floor above them. "He said he was going to shower and then maybe lie down. But…he looked ready to keel over on the kitchen floor."

"Have you checked on him?"

In answer, Bunk pulled his phone out and frowned. "Nope. But I need to go talk my guys and figure out the plan to pick up your friends. Mr. Casablancas texted not too long ago and said he and your friend were on their way." He stood up. "If you could check on Echo, that would help me out. We've got to make sure no one's following your friends and get them _and_ their car in here without anyone noticing."

***Break***

Logan stepped out of the shower and grabbed his towel off the hook. He gingerly patted himself dry and then wrapped the towel around his waist. In the mirror, he could see how worn out he looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and there was a slightly pinched look around his mouth that betrayed the pain he was actually in.

Bunk had mentioned that Logan had seen worse than this shot to the arm. Thinking of it now, Logan opened his towel and eyed the angry looking scar that graced his upper thigh. During his first few practiced ejections out of the cockpit, there had been a malfunction and a piece of the frame had ripped into his suit and into his thigh. He'd been extremely lucky that it hadn't severed the artery and though he'd recovered quickly, it had left Logan with a battle scar and a story to tell. Not many people outside of the Navy knew about the injury, mostly because there had been few to tell. Only Dick and Carrie; now Carrie was dead. Thinking of it made him feel very alone.

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts. Logan wrapped the towel tighter around his waist, and rubbed the hand towel through his hair as he headed to the door.

"Patience never was your thing, old man," he said as he swung the door open. "I told ya I'd be fine, and I am."

"Well, that's a relief," Veronica's breathless voice responded and Logan stopped running the towel over his head in surprise when he opened his eyes to meet her blue ones.

Startled that it was Veronica and not Bunk, Logan said nothing when she moved purposely past him into the small, cramped bathroom and looked around. "Bunk said you were probably going to need help with your bandages and I was elected seeing as," she raised her hands up and air-quoted, "'he needed to go and figure a way to get Dick and Mac here safely and without compromising our location' or some such nonsense." She shrugged and turned back to face him, and he noticed right away that she wasn't averting her eyes from his bare chest like she had only two nights prior. In fact, he could have sworn he saw female appreciation flash across her face before she turned to the counter. She cleared her throat. "Now, where is the ointment?"

"On the dresser in my room."

Logan led her out of the bathroom and into the room he'd taken over, tightening the towel at his waist as he walked. He could feel droplets of water running down his neck and creeping underneath the hand towel he'd left slung casually around his neck. Taking hold of the towel, Logan dried the nape of his neck better and motioned to the dresser where the ointment and bandages sat.

"I kind of perfected the one-handed application."

She smirked but didn't meet his eye. "Well, that's good. Are you saying you don't need help?"

"I've never refused the help of a lovely lady."

***Break***

 _Was Logan flirting with her?_ Veronica opened the tube of ointment before turning back to him. The bandages he had were attached firmly to his skin and she could tell he'd probably had help dressing it earlier from Bunk. One handed, her ass. She'd watched him struggle to apply his bandages the first night they'd spent here and knew there was no way he could do this alone, not yet.

Bandaging Logan tonight was completely different than the first night she'd helped him. Both of their defenses seemed a level lower since they'd arrived at Big Bear. Today's events alone had taken Veronica's own defenses down a few notches and she felt as if she were seeing Logan in a completely different light than when she'd first arrived back in California. He was more human than she'd let herself remember him being. He did things for other people rather than for self-serving purposes. He genuinely seemed concerned other people's needs.

She was humbled by his giving nature. He'd turned everything that he once was into something positive and useful. What did she have that could compare to that?

Not much.

***Break**

Mac had to pee.

They'd been driving for over an hour in stop and go traffic and the pressure on her bladder was well past the brink of misery.

"Is there any way you'd be willing to take the next exit and hit a gas station?" she finally asked, her voice tight.

Dick didn't even glance at her before he started merging over. "No prob."

Not even a question or a barb. After ten more minutes, they were parked and out of the car. Mac didn't say another word before she rushed inside the Chevron's door and darted to the restroom.

When she finally emerged, feeling refreshed and much better, Dick was perusing the junk food aisle, eyeing the beef jerky. She sidled up beside him. "You know that stuff will kill you, right?"

"How would you know?" he shot back without looking at her, "Ever tried it?"

"Well, no…"

"Jerky is a lot like a raisin, you know." He grinned at her dubious look. "No, seriously!" His grin grew wider. "Look, see, jerky is dried meat; a raisin is a dried grape…" he laughed when she blanched. "All I'm saying is that the texture is similar."

She regarded the tubes of jerky doubtfully and then gave him a tiny smile, holding back her laugh. "Hmm…I'm thinking not."

"Now, you say that like you know from experience. But my knowledge of you says you're gonna march your cute little butt over to that old fruit sitting in the fridge case and grab a melon cup and pretend it doesn't make your stomach heave with every rancid bite." He quirked his brows and unscrewed the cap of a jerky container to grab out a few sticks. "Honestly, there is no good choice here but I don't see much more for options, so you might wanna try one. Protein is a good thing." He waved a stick near her face and she stepped back.

"You can't offend me with that stuff, Dick. My brother tries all the time with no success."

"I don't think it has anything to do with offense. You're too skinny and I think you might enjoy it."

"I…think I'm gonna go check out the fruit cups."

His chortle followed her all the way to the open fridge case. Sure enough, all the 'fresh' fruit cups looked about ten days past their prime and nothing appealed to her as palatable. She finally settled on a very ripe banana and a V8. Dick waited for her to join him at the checkout counter before buying the food over her weak protests.

They got back in the car and Mac checked the GPS on her phone. "Surely we don't need to get back on the freeway and into that mess again. There's got to be another way to Big Bear."

"There's always a scenic route. And, by the way, my name's not Shirley."

***Break***

His towel was nearly falling off. Veronica had just finished with the bandage at his back and when he turned to face her, Logan realized his predicament. In an effort to reclaim his dignity, he grabbed the edge of his towel and tucked it tighter into him and then leaned against the edge of the dresser to keep the blasted fabric in place.

Not noticing, Veronica's fingers peeled the bandage from his arm. "You really worked to make sure this didn't get wet," she commented as she tugged. "It's quite stuck."

She bent closer to the wound making it so that Logan's chin was mere inches from the top of her head. "I had Bunk help," he agreed, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. He closed his eyes and tried to gain his composure, gripping his towel more firmly. She smelled just like she used to—like marshmallows and a touch of something else…

"What was that?"

Startled, Logan opened his eyes and was greeted with a question in hers. "What?" he responded dumbly.

She gave him a humorous look. "You said something."

"Uh…no, it was nothing." Thankfully, she shrugged and went back to her work at his arm. He had a feeling, though, that he knew what he'd said aloud and figured she knew he knew what he'd said as well.

The bandage suddenly roughly gave away and Logan flinched back in surprised pain. "Ouch."

"Ooh, sorry."

"You don't sound sorry."

"Well, you're a tough guy." She winked at him and he grinned back at her. "Buck up, I hear you can take a lot."

"Bunk needs to shut the fuck up," he grumbled.

"Bunk tells me a lot more than you do," she told him, reaching around him to grab the ointment she'd set back on the dresser. She dabbed a bit on her finger and then applied it to his arm. "This looks a lot better tonight."

"I can tell its healing. It's starting to itch."

"Logan." Veronica stilled a moment before replacing the ointments cap. She took a step back. "What other injuries have you had?"

Her expression was neutral, as if the question was commonplace and something she didn't care whether he answered truthfully or not. But her eyes were insistent. She really wanted to know.

Looking away from her, Logan mumbled, "I've had some near misses. Nothing too serious."

Veronica drew in a shaky breath. "Somehow, I'm thinking you're being modest. Near misses means near death."

He thought of the scar at his thigh and winced. "I've never been shot until now; that's a plus."

"Boastful of dodging literal bullets," Veronica murmured. "But the Navy must have its share of danger. Especially for a pilot."

"Mostly, it's deciding whether to wear flip flops or a parka." Encouraged by her smile, Logan told her, "You know, one day you might be somewhere damn hot and then the next it could be snowing. Weather on the carrier changes every five minutes."

"What's the carrier like?" Veronica applied the bandage to his shoulder and began taping it up. He was glad for her more comfortable tone tonight and that she was allowing easy conversation and not pressing the subject of his injuries.

Again, he tightened the towel at his waist. "It's large. Like a city on water. There are different areas, you know, so you don't know everyone. There'd be no way."

"How long are you gone from home?"

Her voice was small and Logan glanced quickly at her and then away. Softly, he said, "Normal deployment is one-hundred and eighty days. Half of that is at sea; the other half is tied up somewhere ashore. I live near the base, so I can fly when I'm home here in California...they know I don't have a lot of family and so I spend most of my time there."

"Six months, huh? That's not too bad, I guess." She pressed her fingers against the edge of the bandaged arm. "All done."

"Thank you." Logan tipped his head down to look at his newly bandaged shoulder. As he looked back up, he had to pull back a bit so that he didn't bump into Veronica, who had also leaned closer to look at the wound. Her hair was tucked back behind her ears, and she was biting her bottom lip. His breath caught when her eyes met his and she straightened.

She cleared her throat, and Logan felt his own throat tighten at the look in her eyes. Her pupils had dilated from the dimness in the room, and there was heat coming from the hand that she'd placed on his forearm. Without thought, he set his hand on her other arm, so that they were each touching one another.

Time seemed to stand still. There was no sound except for their breathing. The air felt heavy even though they'd left the windows open during the day to let in the fresh mountain air. Their eyes were locked on one another; neither blinked.

He licked his dry lips as he brushed his fingers up Veronica's arm to the base of her neck. He was surprised when she stepped even closer to him and tilted her face up toward his.

 _God, am I ready for this?_ His thoughts were betraying his insecurities. He searched her face. There was no trace of anger or distrust reflected there. All he could see there was something that he could only describe as longing. He was sure that she probably saw the same longing written on his own.

Logan bent closer to her just as she bent closer to him.

They were no more than an inch apart now. Her lips parted into a slight smile and Logan tipped his mouth to hers, capturing her mouth in a fluid motion, hungry and carnal. This kiss was different than last night's. It was warm and full of purpose. He cupped her jaw and drew her into him, tracing the fine bone with his fingers as he lazily slid his tongue into her mouth.

From far away, Logan heard a moan and realized it was Veronica as she slid her arms up and around his neck.

"Echo!"

Veronica pulled away from him, her eyes wide. There was the thumping of feet up the stairs that was progressively getting louder and again, Bunk called out, "Hey, Echo!"

His hands still cupped Veronica's face and he tipped head just enough so that their foreheads touched. "Duty calls." With that, he placed a gentle kiss against her forehead and set her away from him, tightening the towel as he did so. Logan then strode to the half opened door and looked out. Seeing Bunk in the hall, he called out, "Yo, man, what's up?"

Bunk had just cleared the stairs and was walking purposefully toward Logan's room. The older man took in the sight of Logan, clad only in his towel and bandages. "Oh, sorry, I thought you'd be dressed by now. Casablancas called, and they're awful close. We're meeting him and his girlfriend and then ditching the car."

"Okay, man, let me get some jeans on…do you want me to come with you?" Logan turned back in the room just as Veronica slipped past him and out into the hall.

**Break**

Bunk was sneaky, Veronica decided.

"You're a sick old man, you know that?" she hissed when she met Bunk's sly grin as she passed by him in the hallway. Bunk didn't look the least bit surprised to see her in Logan's room. Which, why should he? He'd sent her in there.

"Wouldn't want you to get too carried away, now would we?" he murmured low enough that only she could hear him. "I don't think that makes me sick. But what do I know?"

Ignoring him, Veronica headed down the darkened hallway and let herself into her room at the other end of the hall.

The guest room had slowly begun to feel like her own after three days of living there. Though none of the clothes were hers and the bed was more like a hotel room's, being alone in the confines of the four walls of the room felt like a safe haven to her now.

She still felt flushed from Logan's kiss and his fingertips on her skin. She relived the feel of their lips touching, the slow lazy heat that had started rising up through her belly that had been so rudely interrupted by Bunk's blasted yelling.

Why hadn't she stopped Logan? She'd seen it coming; she'd known the entire time she'd been changing his bandage that the unspoken heat between them was building and building. When she'd looked into his brown eyes and seen the familiar look he'd given her, she'd been lost. A total goner. There was just something about Logan that Veronica had never been able refuse.

Opening the bathroom door, Veronica flipped the lights on and pulled out a towel, readying herself for her own shower. She turned on the water and stripped out of her little racing day dress. When she stepped under the hot water, Veronica plunged her face directly into the spray of water and let the warm shards of liquid hit her face, gasping from the shock of it.

She ran her fingers through her hair and breathed in the warm, humid air that was now filling the shower, grateful for how the heat enveloped her.

Her mind wandered back to Logan and his brown eyes. What was she going to do? For the first time in a long time, Veronica felt powerless and it didn't even bother her.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, a Review is always welcome.

A/N: A special thank you to Bondopoulos, because you know that your advice, critiques, and suggestions are always welcome, even when I whine. Thank you for your continued efforts in this story, even when I'm sure you've wondered if I would finish this; you know I won't leave us all hanging, so there's that.


	15. Chapter 15 Recall

A/N: Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Bondopoulos. Thank you all for your continued interest. Thank you thank you!

* * *

Chapter 15 Recall

The man named Bunk met them at an intersection in the middle of nowhere and they swapped cars. A young guy who Bunk introduced as Jeremy got into the driver's seat of Mac's car and drove off as soon as she and Dick had taken their stuff out of the back seat. She watched the tail lights disappear down the road and into the darkness.

Turning back to where Dick stood between Bunk and the other car, Mac quipped, "That Smart car's smart enough to not get stolen, you know."

Bunk chuckled. "That's the last thing you need to worry about." He motioned behind him to the dark car that he'd pulled up in. "Echo came with, as a token of good faith."

"Echo?" Mac repeated, squinting to see into the back seat. Sure enough, the form of another person sat in the back seat. She recognized him immediately. There, sitting in the shadows of the back seat was Logan, looking slightly exhausted but freshly showered. He gave her a slight smile and she stood straight up. "Echo still isn't my car, sir."

"Relax, Mackster."Dick balled up his fists and teasingly punched the air between them. "Bunk won't let anything happen to your precious."

She threw her hands up in fists and jabbed back at him. "Would you be saying the same thing if it were your _precious_ zooming off in the darkness _?_ "

"I told ya I would have driven," Dick told her and then to Bunk he said, "That little Mr. Bean ride of hers isn't exactly," he gestured wildly with his hands, "comfortable, if you know what I'm saying, heh heh."

Bunk's response faded into back ground noise as Mac looked back into the car and saw Logan's tired expression. She thought of his injured shoulder and wondered how he was doing. She broke apart from the other two to open the back door, slid into the back seat next to him and slammed the door shut. "You're looking rough."

"Brutal honesty never suited you, Mac," Logan remarked as he rested his head against the head rest "The least you could do is lie to me to protect my vanity. I come from a long linage of narcissists."

"Well," Mac adjusted her bag that she'd pulled onto her lap and set it down between her feet, "in that case, you've never looked better."

"Now, that's more like it. See, that flatters me _and_ makes me feel better all at the same time. Talent like yours is wasted at Kane Software. Hollywood needs you with that kind of smooth talk. Hit me with some more."

"I got nothing," she admitted after a moment of pretending to think about it. "Where's Veronica?"

"Ever the seamless flow of conversation. Impressive."

She shrugged. "I practice in front of the mirror. Be jealous."

"Oh, I am."

They were silent for a moment when Dick and Bunk clambered into the front of the car, with Bunk in the driver's seat and Dick riding shot gun. Once the engine revved to life, Bunk made a sharp U-turn and they set off in the opposite direction of the way they'd come.

Dick twisted in the front seat and gave Logan a huge grin. "Logan, my man! Ronnie hasn't squeezed off your balls yet, huh?" He chuckled obnoxiously and Mac barely withheld her eye roll. "Good to see you in one manly piece."

"Rest assured my man parts are intact."

"While I'm glad to hear you're all in one piece, can you update us a bit as to where Veronica is?" Mac interrupted impatiently.

Sitting up straighter, Logan picked at the knee of his jeans. "She's, uh, at the house. I think looking up some things online. We're not far."

"Has she been watching where the money's heading? I haven't taken any time to look."

"I'm sure of it."

**Break**

The money was moving back into Neptune. Veronica watched the little beacon as it moved across the screen, fascinated by the accuracy of Mac's magical tracker. She'd almost forgotten how great it was to have her own personal Q and how handy it could be.

Once Logan and Bunk had left to go pick up Mac and Dick, Veronica had headed into the office to work. She'd started by finding where the tracking device on the money was headed.

Next, she clicked to a new screen to begin a fresh Google search. She typed in the name 'Larry Morrison' and quickly skimmed the same information she'd already come across a few days earlier. She clicked through a few more of the top articles that the search brought up. The man had worked his way up through the years and was a huge benefactor of the city of Neptune. He owned a fair amount of property in and around the city, plus he had bought into the biotech company that she'd read about previously. Ten years ago, Morrison had been just gotten started with his real estate ventures, and just five short years later, he'd bought into the biotech firm and struck it seriously rich.

Two years after that, he'd donated a large sum of money to the Sheriff's Department to be used toward new cars, service animals, and body cameras for each officer when on duty. That was right around the time that the whole country had been up in arms about full disclosure, Veronica recalled, with every officer in the nation being constantly questioned about his or her motives. From the tone of the article, it sounded as though the people of Neptune had praised Morrison for his forethought and that he was a valued member of society.

Veronica wanted to retch.

Shortly after that, Morrison donated an even larger sum for the new town hall and Sheriff's Department. The two buildings had been finished relatively quickly, Veronica read. Both had been up and running within eight months of their ground breaking ceremony.

It was interesting how quickly a project could be completed when enough money was thrown at it.

She began a new search and typed in the name Vincent Van Lowe. Time to find out what the smarmy former sheriff was up to these days.

The search popped up a number of articles, but at the top of the search was "Vincent Vanlowe PI." She clicked the page open and immediately saw that it was his company's website. Vinnie Van Lowe still owned and operated his own private PI firm that specialized in small businesses and infidelities. His website touted 'discreet and thorough' investigations that promised 'satisfactory results'. _Interesting choice of words,_ Veronica thought ruefully. _It sounds more like a promise that what the client pays for, the client gets._ She clicked through the pages slowly, reading the information and began to formulate a plan.

***Break***

Logan had forgotten how well Bunk and Dick got along. His two friends sat in the front seats of the car, chatting it up while he sat in the back and tried to not pass out. Outside, the night was clear and the moon was just beginning to peek through the trees, shining through the window brightly. The hum of the engine, combined with the low tones of conversation in the front seat, made Logan's eyes feel heavy with fatigue.

Next to him, Mac fidgeted with the strap of her bag. She must have sensed Logan needed the rest, because she had ceased trying to talk to him and instead stared out her window to the shadows that bounced off passing trees.

Mustering up the energy to talk Logan eventually said, "You can relax, you know. This whole thing has taken a crazy turn, but you're safe."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," she reassured him quietly, turning in her seat to look at him. "I just can't help wondering what's gonna happen. You know, with tracking Sean and everything it might bring. I'm thinking this could get ugly."

"I know," Logan agreed.

They were silent again as the car slowed down. They had finally reached the gate to Carrie's property. They waited for clearance from Bunk's hired man before they passed through. Logan sensed Mac taking the property with curiosity. The moonlight had lit it up the entryway up to the drive, and the lights of the house radiated pleasantly through the trees.

The closer that they got to the house, the tenser Logan became. When they'd left, he and Bunk hadn't said good bye to Veronica, so the last he'd seen her had been when she'd sidled out of his room, post kiss. His mouth still burned from it. He wondered if the kiss meant as much to her as it did to him. Finally, they'd had a real moment of connection not based off of anger, fear, or sadness. It had been pure need for him. He hadn't been able to control himself any longer, and he mused about just how far he would have let things go if Bunk hadn't interrupted when he did. Her skin on his fingertips had ignited the fire that still burned for her. This kiss tonight had been the real thing, not something he'd resorted to as a means to shut her up and knock her defenses down. Tonight there'd been not much to break down because Logan knew intuitively that the wall she usually had up was almost all the way down.

Victory point for Logan Echolls.

The car slowed to a stop and jerked lightly when Bunk put it into Park. When Bunk turned the ignition off, neither Logan nor Mac moved. Instead the two of them sat motionless while the others climbed out of the front and headed to the trunk.

Logan grasped the door handle and was about to pull it open when Mac asked, "How is Veronica really doing, Lo?"

He considered the question as he pulled back to regard her. "Well, she saw Keith this morning. That took a lot out of her."

Mac nodded and pulled her bag back onto her lap. "She's been super worried about him. And you."

"Me?" Logan let his hand fall from the handle. "What's to be worried about me?"

She gave him a knowing smile. "As much as she hates to admit it, she still cares a lot about you, you know."

"How would I know that?" Logan asked, "It's not like I ever got a birthday card in the past nine years, or even a 'thinking of you' note. Just deafening radio silence."

"Well, Veronica gives good radio silence, that's true."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Mac turned in her seat and stared at him as if deciding something. After a moment, she said, "Okay. I'll tell you something. You ready? Because I won't be saying this again." At his nod, Mac took a deep breath and continued, "She told me she left for Stanford because she was scared. For you. Scared that you would self-destruct because of her, and that she loved you too much to let you become less than what you were."

He started to interrupt, but Mac stopped him. "No. Listen. Listen to me. Veronica's spent the past nine years telling herself lies to keep herself from running straight back here. Because that's exactly what she's wanted to do—this whole time. I took Psychology; I know the classic symptoms. But I'm also not stupid. She thinks if she can believe that you are the same jack-ass that you were the year after Lilly died, screwing up and getting into trouble, taking risks and boozing and schmoozing, that she will stop loving you. She's created an even harder shell around herself when it comes to Neptune, you, and all that it represents. But I'm telling you, the reason is because she didn't want to blame herself when you ended up dead." Mac paused. "And leaving had a lot to do with getting out of Keith's way, too, because she royally fucked up his chances for sheriff. She's never forgiven herself for that, either."

"It doesn't matter, Mac, it's all history now anyway." Logan pulled at the handle and the door popped open.

She reached over and touched his knee. "It may feel like history to you, Logan, but when she Skyped me right after your car blew up…God, Logan, I don't think I've ever seen her that scared in a really long time. I mean, last week with her dad, she was freaked out, yes, but this…she was afraid for you. She was determined to keep her dad safe, yes, but the underlying current was obvious that she was and is more worried about you. It may be that she doesn't even realize how obvious it was to me."

"You're presuming to know her feelings based on her facial expressions over Skype?" Logan scoffed. "Veronica didn't look that worried to me, and I've been with her in person."

"Maybe not, but she's more guarded around you," Mac reminded him. "She always has been. You told me that yourself, years ago. Veronica is careful when she doesn't want to expose too much of herself to someone. I remember many drunken dinners with you bemoaning that very fact."

He flushed. "That hasn't happened in years."

"True, but you'd moved on." She sighed. "Look, I'm probably being a terrible best friend to Veronica right now by telling you this. My ticket to Hell is probably being printed as we speak. But you're my friend, too, even as little as we see each other. I can't help but wonder how the past few days alone with Veronica have gone for you. I'm tired of keeping her secrets when it's so apparent that she's barely lived without you. She's just not Veronica without you."

"She's been a bitch to me up until today."

Mac sat back and folded her arms in satisfaction. "Well, there you go. Caustic indifference. Clearly a reflex for her, just like always. What is it that Wallace always says?" She scrunched her face up in concentration. "Tough candy shell, but inside she's just a marshmallow, waiting to bake something. Has she been baking up here yet?"

He chuckled. "Hardly. She's been snooping around the house, trying to figure me and Carrie out."

She grimaced. "Ooh, here I've been going on and on about Veronica and you, and I forgot all about Carrie. I'm so sorry. That was insensitive of me. How are you doing, being here in her place? It's full of memories, I'm sure."

Not wanting to get into it, Logan shrugged. "It's been fine. Carrie and I were hardly up here together."

"No, now I feel horrid. You aren't ready to hear this about Veronica; what was I thinking?" She covered her face. "I've been girling out, thinking about the two of you alone up here…and you've probably been thinking of Carrie non-stop; I _am_ going to Hell. Shit!"

"Mac. Seriously. It's not like that at all. Carrie and I…" he struggled for the words, surprised that his inclination was to tell the truth. Finally, he settled on, "We weren't as serious as the paparazzi suggested, is all. It's fine." At her doubtful expression, he reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "I mean, I was devastated by her death. And I did hire Keith to investigate her murder. All of that is true. But Carrie…well, there was never a real future there."

Mac pursed her lips. "I don't pretend to know anything about your relationships, Logan, but—"

Her sentence was cut short by a sharp rapping on her window. They both jumped. Dick's face loomed suddenly through the glass and he looked a tad impatient. "You two coming in or are you telling Logan all our steamy secrets, Mac?" The glass made his voice sound far away. "You know if you kiss and tell, I will too!" Dick placed his mouth on the glass and kissed it dramatically and then pulled away. "Come on," he whined, drawing the words out, "It's my turn to tell."

Mac rubbed her eyes. "You two think _you've_ had it rough? Look who I've had to deal with!"

**Break***

Sitting in the office, Veronica knew the instant that the others came in through the kitchen. The clattering of feet and Dick's raucous laughter filled the house and boomed down the hallway and through the office door. Knowing that they would all likely join her soon, Veronica chose to keep plugging away at her research instead of venturing from her cave.

She was too engrossed in her findings as it was. After bookmarking Vinnie's website, Veronica had begun a search on Sheriff Dan Lamb. So far, she'd discovered one of the first publications that had been released when the man had run for sheriff. It was a fluffed-up piece about how Lamb was a good family man who came from a loving home of four boys, one of whom had died in the line of duty…blah blah blah, Veronica quickly became exasperated by the sob story. The way the article had been written, Veronica could see that it had been a blatant attempt to pull at the heartstrings of the voting public. Evidently it had worked. Dan Lamb had been elected Sheriff of Balboa County three years prior, which was when Vinnie Van Lowe had taken early retirement from the position.

Early retirement.

She stared at those words. When Vinnie had run against her dad right before she'd left Neptune, he'd been cocky and sure of himself. He'd also been under the influence and, she suspected, the payroll of the Fighting Fitzpatricks. For Vinnie to retire at such a young age caused alarm bells to go off in her head.

Pulling up a new search, Veronica typed in 'the River Styx'. She was surprised to read that the infamous bar had been torn down during all of the renovations of the southern part of Neptune. It had not been relocated because the Fitzpatrick's only surviving child, Liam, was in prison for life.

 _Hmmm._ She typed in 'Danny Boyd'. The search brought up a police log. He was in prison as well.

It appeared that having Vinnie Van Lowe in their pocket had not worked out so well for them. Reading through all of the reports she could find, Veronica found that both Danny Boyd and Liam Fitzpatrick had been involved with a mass murder plot in San Diego but had been caught in an undercover operation after an informant had tipped off the police. A lot of money had been involved, she read, millions actually, and two people had been murdered. Neither Liam nor Danny had been able to squeak their way out of guilty verdicts.

That had been three years ago. It had happened right around the time that Vinnie had announced his retirement and Dan Lamb had announced his intention to run for Sheriff. There had been two other candidates, neither of whom Veronica had ever heard of, but Lamb had taken an early lead and then had won by a landslide.

She sat back. Keith had not mentioned a race for the office of sheriff three years ago, but she knew why. Essentially, Veronica had ruined any chance her dad had of getting his position back when she'd broken into the Kane's estate and stolen Jake Kane's hard drive. Her dad had knowingly and voluntarily destroyed the evidence that linked her to the crime, and he'd been caught. He'd sacrificed his future for hers.

She still had not forgiven herself for putting him in that position in the first place.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, and reasonably satisfied that the Fitzpatrick's were not involved, Veronica closed out of that search. No need to drag up dirty laundry.

There was a knock at the door before she heard the latch turn.

"Are you in here?" Mac's tentative voice came and she poked her head around the door.

Veronica swiveled in her chair and bolted out of it and straight into Mac's arms, hugging her friend tightly. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

They broke apart and Mac nodded tightly. "I can guess."

"It's been a long couple of days," Veronica admitted.

"Tell me about it," Mac laughed. She looked around the room. "Doesn't this look just like your old room used to."

Veronica followed Mac's gaze to the bulletin board, where she had pinned all the various articles and pictures she'd printed out over the past two days. She turned to inspect it as if it hadn't been she who had tacked it all up there. "Nosiness is in my bloodline, what can I say?"

"You can take the investigator out of Neptune, but you can't take Neptune out of the investigator," Mac commented drily. She strode over to the computer and read what was still pulled up on the screen. "Sheriff Dan Lamb, huh? Getting to know all about the fine man in blue, are you? I bet you're feeling pretty good about not have had to deal with that pile of mess for the past few years."

"The whole sheriff's department has been a bigger circus than I would have thought possible," Veronica agreed. "What I don't understand is how the majority of the city voted to put another Lamb into office."

"Well," Mac said slowly, "when he ran, I remember the media bringing up how Don Lamb died and how Dan Lamb planned to carry on his brother's legacy."

"Legacy, please," Veronica scoffed, rolling her eyes. "More like embarrassment. Don Lamb's clown shoes should have been retired and burned the day he died; not set aside to be filled at a later date by his buffoon big brother."

Mac shrugged with a grimace. "The good people of Neptune don't exactly think things like that through, even after all these years."

"So I've discovered."

"Well, what else have you found out? Anything good with the tracker?"

Veronica sat back down and swiveled her chair toward the desk. She clicked back through her searches to the screen that showed Mac's fancy tracker app, blinking through a map of Neptune. "I know who has the money and it isn't Sean…not anymore."

"So it worked?" Mac asked excitedly, leaning over the back of the chair to get a better look at the screen. "We were successful? When you left the races, I was reasonably sure you must have figured something out. We watched Manny Rose for a little while, but he kind of got boring. We decided to come here instead once the race was over. He didn't seem to be up to much."

"I don't know what Manny's true purpose was today, but that aside, we were successful enough." Veronica clicked to a new screen that showed a large picture of Larry Morrison that had been taken for the biotech company's website. In an expensive suit, Morrison looked friendly enough, as if he were someone who knew all the right things to say at the right time. His thick salt and pepper hair was combed smartly back and his white teeth gleamed brightly. "Do you recognize him?"

"Larry Morrison? He's kind of big deal, so yeah, I know who he is."

"Big deal in Neptune, you mean?"

"Well, that, sure, but Sweitzer, his biotech company, is a client of Kane Software. So we see Morrison once in a while."

Veronica mulled that over. "What kind of client?"

"Nothing too serious, Kane Software has a medical division. Sweitzer commissioned us to work on a microchip that measures blood flow or white blood cells or something for one of their projects. I'm not on the team; I only know the bare minimum. It's pretty hush-hush, so I'm sure only a select few know the extent of the contract."

"Hmmm…okay."

Slowly, Mac said, "But…are you saying that he's who Sean made the drop with? Larry Morrison is the drug lord?"

Veronica looked behind her at her friend. "It's looking that way."

"But…why? The guy is a bazillionaire. What could his reason be for stooping into the cess pool of druggies?"

"To control them."

Veronica's tone seemed to still Mac. "You sound like you know more than you're telling me."

Hesitating, Veronica clicked through her bookmarked pages and found the one she was looking for. "His name sure pops up a lot. From medical breakthroughs to donating exorbitant amounts of money, Morrison is all over the map. He's buying up property when the market dips and selling high when it spikes. Plus," Veronica sighed, "people seem to love him. Warning bells are ringing."

"Ever the cynic."

"I like to think I'm just the right proportion of cynicism and hope." She paused. "But I can't deny what Logan told me about the guy and what I'm finding out on my own. I don't like the guy. He's too slick."

"What did Logan tell you?"

"That when he and Dick bought the property for the 09er, they found out Morrison had paid off city officials to ignore serious building violations so that he could make more of a profit from the buildings later."

"So you found out, too, that they own the 09er?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know until I went there last night," Mac admitted. "Dick told me that the city had the previous building condemned."

"Only because he and Logan discovered what a hazard it was and forced the city to intervene or be exposed as corrupt."

"Wow." Mac was silent for a moment. "So, how are we going to catch this guy?"

"I'm working on it."

***Break**

Having Dick in the house lifted Logan's spirits considerably. It was nice to have his happy-go-lucky, impulsive sidekick who never watched his mouth and could care less about what anyone else thought. As soon as they entered the house, Logan directed Mac down the hall to the office where he knew Veronica was and then offered Dick a beer. Dick took the proffered bottle like a man thrown a life line, popping the top off and guzzling half of it down immediately.

"Whoa, man, it's not going anywhere," Logan chuckled, taking a swig of his own beer. "Mac has you that desperate after just two days?"

"Shit, man, no woman has me desperate." Dick rolled his eyes. "I'm just thirsty after the long drive."

"Hmm…" Logan grinned. "Maybe not a woman, but what about a lady?"

"Puh-lease…" Dick dragged out, "Not even."

"He doth protesteth too much," Logan remarked. "Seriously though, how has it really gone?"

Dick downed the rest of his beer. "How has it been for you?"

"Touché." Logan took a gulp. "How about the reunion?"

"Ehh, same old jazz, different day. Madison Sinclair looks like a whore."

"Well, walks like a duck, quacks like a duck. Must be a duck."

"Touché." They clinked their bottles together.

They walked outside and stood on the porch, looking out to wilderness around them. The sky was dark, and the stars hung brightly above them. The trees were lit up from the light of the moon and the leaves rustled gently in the slight breeze. Logan, enjoying the natural quietness, set his beer on the rail and leaned against it.

Logan heard the crunching sound of boots on gravel just before Bunk stepped the three steps up onto the porch to join them. "The ladies inside?"

"Oh, yeah," Dick said. "Macster forgot all about us when Logan said 'Veronica' and 'computer'. We probably won't see the whites of their eyes till morning. It would have been an awkward threesome if I had followed, so I decided to keep Logan company."

"You weren't invited anyway," Mac retorted as she opened the screen door and held it open for Veronica. The two women stepped out onto the porch as the screen door slapped closed behind them.

All quips and retorts fell mutely on Logan's ears when he turned to take in Veronica. She was dressed in leggings of an Aztec print and a gray tunic, the long sleeves rolled to three-quarters length. Her blonde hair was loose and hung past her shoulders with a slight curl, still damp from the shower he knew she'd taken. He couldn't see her eyes clearly in the dim light, but he was certain they were burning into him and he pushed away from the rail to step toward her.

It felt as if the world had fallen away when he looked at her, leaving only the two of them. He curled his lips in a smile. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You get a shower?" he asked, immediately feeling stupid.

Veronica nodded her head. In the dimness, he could now see that her eyes were in fact locked on his. "Yeah, I did."

Beside Veronica, Mac cleared her throat. "Uh. So, the nine o'clock news is on in ten. We were wondering if you three wanted to see what the report says tonight."

Now alert, Logan tore his gaze from Veronica. "Of course we want to watch."

"Hell, yeah," Dick piped up, rubbing his hands together, "I'll make the popcorn! This is going to be classic!"

The five of them piled back into the house. Logan led the way down the hallway and to the living room, where the large flat screen was already queued to Channel Nine. Dick backed out of the room and returned just as the others had gotten settled in the various armchairs and couches, brandishing a large bowl of freshly popped popcorn.

Logan watched with interest as his friend settled in on the large couch beside Mac and offered her the bowl. "First dibs?" Dick asked with a large smile.

Mac smiled back and dug her hand into the bowl, cupping the large handful of popcorn carefully in one hand. She still had on the dress she'd worn to the race, Logan noticed, and seemed overly cautious not to drop the buttery white puffs onto the fabric. As soon as she popped a piece into her mouth with small thanks, Dick turned and offered the bowl to the others.

As Logan leaned over and took a handful, he said, "You actually found popcorn? Are you sure you've never been here before? How'd you know where to look?"

"No," Mac snorted between bites. "He bought it at the gas station when we stopped earlier."

"That makes more sense."

"Shhh…it's on," Veronica shushed them. "I hope they show Lamb's face when he realizes he played right into the hands of 'Martina Vasquez'."

On the screen, the anchor was giving the overview of the story that had been released earlier in the day, which was the original report they had watched while at the hospital.

"However," the anchor was now saying, "We received some conflicting pictures that we brought to you this evening on the six o'clock news, and we've done some additional investigating. Martina Vasquez has the latest."

The screen flashed to Martina Vasquez, looking stoically into the camera. "Thank you, Bill. This afternoon, we received an anonymous email that contained photographs of Logan Echolls' vehicle before the explosion. The pictures depict what appears to be an unidentified male planting a bomb into the back of Echolls' BMW convertible." The screen filled with the pictures that Veronica had forwarded to the reporter. "We approached Sheriff Lamb with this information this afternoon." Again, the screen flashed to what Veronica assumed to be the new Sheriff's Office. Martina Vasquez, brandishing a microphone, was following a pissed-off looking Lamb, calling out questions. Abruptly, the sheriff turned around and belted out, "The only comment I have is that you, the media, are releasing information that has not been verified by our department. You're spreading wild speculation. Logan Echolls is a person of interest with whom we want to speak to. He is still considered a suspect, and these 'pictures'," Lamb air-quoted, "could easily have been falsified or might even be of a different car. They could have even been taken on a different day. I have yet to see these photographs myself," Lamb's expression hardened. "And I would appreciate it if and when your office receives items like this that you bring it to us before airing them on your program. That is all I have to say." With that, Lamb sneered at someone off camera and then stomped into the building. The screen flashed back to the anchor, who then wrapped up the story and moved on to the next report.

Bunk reached over and pressed the Off button on the remote. The others were silent until Veronica piped up, "He's spooked. He knows that the media isn't on his side this time; he's floundering. This is good."

"Dude," muttered Dick.

Logan looked away from everyone and swallowed. "You really think that the sheriff's office still seeking me is a good thing?"

"They still don't have a warrant for your arrest. He's making everything up."

"I think you and I have different definitions of 'good,'" Logan said dejectedly. "This is really bad."

"Look," Veronica pointed out, "The public is seeing a different side to this story as of tonight. Plus, we can prove you were supposed to be at Dad's house the night of the accident; we can prove someone shot you this week; we can prove why you were at MI in the first place when the bomb was planted without your consent or design. Lamb has only let certain bits of information out, but we have all of it." She paused to let what she said sink in. "Vinnie Van Lowe is their puppet. They feed him the lines and he spews it out at the right time. AndI have the case files to prove it." Again, Veronica paused. Sensing she had something more to add, Logan bit his tongue and waited. She drew in a long breath before she met his eye again. "I think it's time for you to go to the police."

Objections from all around the room had Veronica raising her hands to signal silence. "I've given this a lot of thought."

As much as he didn't want to go to the Sheriff's Office, Logan could tell that Veronica had a plan up her sleeve. The determined set of her jaw was both familiar and endearing, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head. "Enlighten us then, why don't you?"

"If we go to Lamb, his claim that you are evading police can't be validated. I say we get all of our proof and then go to Lamb. Once he sees it, he'll have to drop his case against you. Lamb thinks he's smarter than us, but we have all of the aces."

"What if he arrests me?"

"He won't." She took in a breath. "I want to topple these people to the ground, Logan. One by one. Lamb is just the beginning. And…it's more than just you now. I talked to Cliff while you were gone. Eli Navarro was arrested last night for attempted murder. But this is the clincher—he was the one who got shot and he is claiming he doesn't even own a gun. Cliff said Weevil's in hospital recovering before the police can take him into custody. It's obvious he's being set up as well."

"Weevil got shot?" Mac repeated.

"Well, this is old Weevs we're talking about." Logan shook his head at Mac's glare and shrugged indifferently. "What? _Ese tipo_ was the head of a biker gang when I knew him best. In fact, I'm pretty sure I recall him ordering his cronies to kidnap me on one occasion, so…his innocence might not be so debatable."

"He was at the reunion last night, though," Mac argued. "He looked so good and like he'd cleaned up his life."

"Hmm, should I be jealous?" Dick piped up beside her, grinning broadly. "I didn't know you had a thing for the former bad boy."

"Shut up, Dick," Mac threw a piece of popcorn at him. "Weevil was there with his _wife_. Wallace was the one who talked to him, not me, anyway." She turned back to Veronica. "I hadn't had a chance to tell you yet, Veronica. He told Wallace that he's got multiple friends who have been set up. When did this shooting happen?"

Veronica, who had been watching the exchange between Mac and Dick, shrugged when everyone looked back at her, waiting for her response. "According to Cliff, Weevil had just dropped of his kid's babysitter when he came upon a situation and got shot. He says he was being a good samaritan and Celeste Kane shot him."

"Celeste Kane?" Logan was incredulous, an ominous feeling overtaking him. "She's involved?"

Again, Veronica shrugged. "All I know is that Cliff spent half of his day at the hospital with Eli and his wife, and the other half trying to get the documents from the sheriff. Busy little place, that office. Apparently, Celeste Kane's car had broken down and there were some bikers harassing her when Weevil came upon them. When he approached her car to see if she was all right, Celeste shot him. That's his story. Her story is that he came up to the window, brandishing a gun. She's claiming self-defense, and that he was going to shoot her."

"So what does this have to do with me?"

Veronica looked at Logan tightly. "If we can prove that the Balboa County Sheriff's Office is repeatedly throwing around their weight to arrest whoever is convenient, we can prove they're crooked. The more evidence we have, the better. Look," she said to the room at large, looking at them each one by one, "I have a plan, but it might seem a little crazy. But if you're not in, I need to know. Logan needs to go to Lamb tomorrow. But I have other things I need you guys to do. If you'll do it."

Mac, who had finished her popcorn, dusted off her hands. "Veronica, I wouldn't have come here tonight if I wasn't all in. I have some PTO I can take. I'll do whatever you need."

Beside her, Dick nodded. "Ditto for me. Except the PTO part. You know, because I own the joint. I can do whatever. But while that cat's away, the mice will play, so I might have to check in once in a while, but it's all good. I'm rarely away." He rested his elbows on his knees. "But if we go undercover, I get to be the hot one."

* * *

A/N Thanks again!


	16. Chapter 16 Group Effort

Group Effort

Chapter 16

Once the game plan had been made for the following day, Veronica led Mac up to the second floor and showed her around while the men stayed downstairs. She led her friend to the guest room, flipped on the lights and waited for Mac to pass through the door before shutting it firmly behind them.

"Welcome to my home away from home." Veronica gestured around the room. "Bathroom is that way, there are towels and pretty much anything you'd ever need—lotions, shampoo—you name it, Carrie seemed to have it."

"Carrie had it all, huh?" Mac said, crossing the carpet to set her bag down on the foot of the bed. "Nice place she had here."

"Mm..hm," Veronica answered noncommittally. "I found some extra blankets in the closet and a pillow, the bed is plenty big, so we can share—"

"Veronica."

"But it's up to you; we can make a makeshift bed on the ground instead."

"Veronica."

"Towels are under the sink…I made sure there would be enough for you, and-"

"Veronica," Mac interrupted again, more insistently. "I can find what I need. Don't worry about it. Are you doing okay? You seem, I don't know, off somehow. Is it your dad?"

They'd all decided to go see Keith in the hospital first thing in the morning, and though Veronica was anxious to see him, her nerves had nothing to do with Keith. She shrugged. "No, I mean," she smiled softly, "He's part of it. Everything about this he's a part of. But, no, I'm not worried _worried_ about him. He's in great hands."

"Well, that's a plus."

"For sure," Veronica laughed cynically. "Is it wrong that I take comfort in the fact that Dad has a twenty-four hour, burly guard-nurse at his side? I think that I'd be much more worried if Trevor wasn't there watching over him."

"Okay."

"I'm fine," Veronica continued, "It's just been such a long time since I've done this kind of thing; I've got to get back into the thinking process. I'm rusty, is all. It's like being at the top of a ski slope on the first day of the season. Just need to get my sea legs."

"You sound like you're talking yourself into believing that."

"You and Dick seemed…cozy."

"Well, come on, Veronica. I've spent the past two days in his presence. The guy has a certain charm."

"Charm?" Veronica scoffed cynically. "We're talking about the guy who used to belch the entire alphabet in one breath."

Mac laughed. "I guess. I doubt he's done that in years. And you're stalling. You and Logan…are _you_ cozy?"

Veronica grimaced and turned away from Mac's scrutinizing stare. "Oh," she said awkwardly and cleared her throat. "I don't know. Not…cozy necessarily. That's probably not the right word for it. But…not awful, either. Maybe…somewhere in between?"

"In between?"

Veronica heard the curiosity in Mac's voice and she threw her friend glance. "Yeah. I guess. In between." She twirled around on her heel. "We've been…arguing. A lot. Or…" she paused, thinking ,and then she sighed. "Or I've been in his face about everything."

Mac snickered. "Well, doesn't that tell you anything?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Mmm, nothing."

"No, seriously, what do you mean?"

"Just…sometimes the meaner you get, the more you're trying to shield yourself…from the truth of what you want."

"Mac! That's so not…"Veronica rubbed her forehead roughly. "Shit."

"I'm sorry to have to tell ya, V, but I think that perhaps there's a reason you've been arguing with him."

"It's stress, Mac. That, and worry for Dad."

"Okay. You keep on telling yourself that. I'm taking a shower."

Mac gathered up her overnight bag and disappeared into the bathroom leaving Veronica was alone with her thoughts.

What would happen once all of this was resolved? Once Logan could go back to his normal life and not hide away, and Veronica could return to whatever 'normal' was going to become?

She thought of his words from earlier. About normal deployment being six months. Six months was a long time. Six months could go fast. Six months could be a lifetime. Six months could be a blink of an eye.

Six months.

Nine years. For nine years she hadn't let herself even think about spending a day with Logan, and now she was musing about not being able to see him for six months.

Veronica shook herself out of her thoughts. She and Logan were nothing to each other. They were practically strangers.

She'd felt powerless earlier, but at that moment, all Veronica felt was terror.

What was she going to do?

***Break***

"Dude, why haven't I ever been here before now?"

Logan looked up from where he was arranging blankets on the pullout couch. "Is this really somewhere you'd choose to spend time?"

"Well, maybe not _all_ of the time, but it could be a nice change of scenery." Dick flopped down on a recliner and popped the footrest up. "A little place to wine and dine and forget my cares. What's not to like?"

Logan threw a pillow square at the blonde's face. "Make your own damn bed."

"Hey!" Dick objected, pushing the footrest back down and throwing the pillow to the floor. "What crawled up your ass?" He popped to his feet. "Wait, is it because someone hasn't scored yet?"

"Dude, shut the hell up."

"No, now, seriously. You and Ronnie," Dick bobbed his eyebrows up and down suggestively, "up here all alone and you know I can always tell when you aren't getting any."

Logan rolled his eyes. "And are _you_? You and Mac, you've been more alone than Veronica and I. Bunk's been here."

"Eh, that threesome's not a turn on." Dick fake gagged. "That must've been a bit of a downer, having him here. No lovin' for Logan."

"Bunk's kept us from ripping each other's heads off."

"You know, black widows eat their mates after sex. And you know Veronica's always been a mate-muncher. You might enjoy it, Logan. You always used to."

"What about you and Mac?" Logan prodded again, desperate to change the subject. "Have you told her yet that you've been in love with her years yet?"

Dick put his hands on his hips. "Dude, what are you yapping on about?"

Logan was pleased to see a red flush creeping up Dick's neck, making the blonde hue of his friend's hair stand out even more. He grinned. "How was your date at the tracks? Did you show her a good time?"

"That was work and you know it."

"Right. And tomorrow's 'assignment' is work as well."

"Right."

"Right."

***Break***

The next morning, Mac and Veronica drove the Le Sabre to the hospital while Logan, Dick, and Bunk followed in the rental car. Veronica pulled into a parking spot and then they stepped out of the Buick to wait for the men to join them.

"What's up with you Mars people and your _Le Cars?"_ Dick snarked and motioned to the Le Sabre when the three men approached, "Le Sabre, Le Baron—why don't you get yourself a _Le improvement?"_

"Because the L and the E make the engine run ever so smoothly," Veronica retorted. "And the seats are oh so comfortable." Her curt smile turned into a flat line before she started walking to the hospital's front doors without waiting for anyone else to follow her.

Veronica had not allowed herself to hope that her dad might be finally awake. It panged her to think that she hadn't been there with him while he was coming out of his drug-induced coma but she knew there had been no other choice. If she had chosen to stay at his bedside the investigation would have stalled. More people would get hurt.

That much she knew and believed fervently.

**Break**

Trevor, the nurse and bodyguard whom had Bunk hired, was standing guard at Keith's door just as he should be. He smiled warmly when he met Veronica's eye and motioned her closer.

"He's awake."

Veronica's heart jumped to her throat. It took every ounce of will she had to nod back at him. She felt a hand at her back and realized hollowly that Logan stood next to her, practically holding her up.

"Is he talking?" Bunk's low tone was low and Veronica's ears were ringing so loudly that she almost missed his words.

Trevor shook his head. "His responses are minimal; blinking for yes and no, plus we have a white board in case he has strength to use it. I'm afraid that I have to restrict his visitors to no more than two of you at a time."

Veronica leaned into Logan. "Will you come in with me?" He didn't answer and she looked up at him. "Logan?"

"Me?" He looked genuinely surprised. "Sorry, I thought you were talking to Mac."

She glanced at Mac, whom she had almost forgotten was there. Veronica shook her head. "No, I would like it if you would. Please."

They held eyes for a moment before he said, "Of course."

**Break***

This time when she walked into her dad's room, Logan was holding her hand.

It felt weird and right at the same time. But instead of fighting it, Veronica let his fingers thread smoothly through hers and she held on tight.

Today, Keith's eyes were open. When the door clicked quietly shut and silenced the noise from the hallway, Keith's head turned marginally and his eyes locked onto Veronica. Willing herself to be strong, Veronica squeezed Logan's hand and was reassured by the light pumping of his fingers. "Hi, Daddy."

The recognition in her dad's eyes encouraged her and she stepped closer. "The nurse said you're still pretty weak. Please don't try to talk yet, but I can hand you the white board if you think you're strong enough to write. But I don't want you to do too much. Trevor said one blink for yes and two blinks for no."

Keith blinked.

Veronica took a deep breath. "Are you feeling all right?"

One blink.

Heartened, she edged closer to Keith's bed, still holding tightly to Logan's hand. "I'm sure you don't feel _that_ great yet," she quipped. "No marathons for you for a while."

His eyes looked amused, but he blinked heavily as if he was exhausted. She lightly touched the arm nearest her. "We've been so worried about you."

***break***

Thirty minutes later, Logan stepped out of the room, leaving Veronica alone with her dad. He'd waited until he was sure that she would be all right before stepping away from her to take his leave. When he'd opened the door, he'd looked back and found Veronica staring after him, silently mouthing the words 'thank you' to him. He'd given a brief nod and a last encouraging smile in response before he'd exited.

The hall was empty except for Trevor the nurse, who motioned that the others were in the waiting room. Logan slowly made his way in their direction, his thoughts revolving around Veronica and her dad.

Logan had never had a father that he cared about. Not like Veronica cared for Keith. It had occurred to him, sitting there with her just now, just how strong of a person Veronica actually was. How determination was superseding the natural instinct in her to just curl up into a ball and cry. How, because she loved her dad, Veronica was doing everything in her power to rectify the situation and make the guilty parties pay.

What Mac had said to Logan the previous night flashed through his mind. She'd told him that Veronica was actually more scared for Logan than for Keith. That Veronica was worried about his safety. But why?

The slow dawning of understanding made his heart skip a few beats. Logan stopped just short of the entrance to the waiting room, where Dick's boisterous laughter and Mac's annoyed, clipped response bit through the air.

Could it be true? Could what Mac have said last night, which Logan had taken as a lot of supposition, actually be fact? Veronica wasn't only worried about Keith. Bunk had said the same thing, and though Logan had taken it seriously, he hadn't let himself hope. The truth was that Veronica didn't have to help Logan at all, and yet here she was, still helping. Coming up with plans and crazy ideas that he was pretty sure would work.

And he knew, _knew,_ why she'd been so difficult lately. He even understood why she'd been fighting him so much, on so many things. Veronica was someone that had always been in charge; always been in control. To not have that control was alien to her. Since she'd returned to Neptune, no, actually, since she'd been _summoned_ to Neptune, Veronica had barely been in control of anything.

Logan could identify with that. In fact, he was the king of lashing out because of lack of control. At least he used to be. When he was younger, dumber, more naïve, Logan had once thought that the world revolved around him and no one else. It had been a hard drop to the bottom for him when he'd realized that life would go on with or without him. Before that moment in time, Logan had fought the knowledge that he wasn't the center of the universe tooth and nail. Although, on top of being difficult and unreasonable, Logan had to admit he'd been drunk most of the time back then. But the truth was that he'd acted much the same way Veronica had been acting the past few days.

But underneath it all, Logan could still see the Veronica he'd always known. Yesterday, there had been a marked improvement in her attitude toward him. It was as if she'd finally realized how she was behaving and had taken a step back. And after seeing Keith, she'd softened even more; enough so to even let Logan hold her. But would this change last? Would her anger and her distrust return?

He crossed through the entryway of the waiting room to where Dick and Mac sat across from each other at the little table. Bunk was pacing beside it. They all glanced over at Logan when he entered.

Bunk slapped his hands together. "We ready to get this show on the road?"

**Break**

When Veronica left her dad's room, she first spoke quietly with Trevor for a moment and then made her way down the hall to find the others. When she entered the waiting room, she was surprised to find only Logan there, looking out of a window that overlooked the city. He didn't hear her at first and Veronica found herself admiring his lean form for a moment before she finally cleared her throat.

He dropped his arm that was propped against the pane and swung around to face her.

"Where is everyone else?" she asked, sweeping her hand around the empty room.

"They had to leave to make their appointment."

"Hmm." She took a deep, tired breath. "Are you ready for y _our_ appointment?"

Logan tugged at the sleeve of his shirt, a nervous habit he'd had since she'd known him. "Not really." His tone was light. "But if you're there, it'll be fun. You against a Lamb is entertaining any day, regardless the circumstances."

"Well, that's good. I do love to entertain."

***BREAK***

Vinnie Van Lowe's office was located in a swanky, newish office complex near the boardwalk. The foot traffic in this part of Neptune was mostly made up of tourists. The people on the sidewalk wore things like swimsuits under cover-ups with big beach bags slung over their shoulders or high-end athletic gear to show off their extremely fit bodies. Mac watched the self-absorbed air of those obviously on vacation through the window while Bunk parked and cut the engine.

The older man glanced at her and grinned. "You ready for this?"

From the back seat, Dick chortled, "Hell, yeah we are!"

"I still can't believe you all talked me into this," Mac muttered under her breath, her eyes still focused on the activity on the sidewalk.

"You said yourself you were all in," Dick reminded her, pushing his knees into the back of her seat. When she pushed back, he sniggered. "And now you need to hire Van Lowe to look into my sordid past and make sure Daddy Dearest isn't coming back to haunt us before you say 'I do'."

"I know what I agreed to do." Mac opened the door. "But that doesn't make it any easier for me to pretend."

"Now, Schnookems," Dick cajoled, hopping out to join her and slamming the door hard behind him. "You don't ever have to pretend with me. What we have is real."

He reached out for her hand just as Bunk rounded the back of the car to join them. Together, the three of them approached the double glass doors of Vinnie's building, and Bunk moved ahead to open them. Mac made no comment when she walked past and looked around the lobby, purposely not pulling her hand from out of Dick's grasp. Instead, she tightened her hold and led him over to a plaque on the wall to read which floor Vinnie's office was located.

It only took a moment to find his name. "Second floor."

They strode to the elevator and Dick punched the 'Up' button. When it pinged open, the three of them piled in and then Dick punched the 'Two'. The door slid shut and the elevator started its ascent.

"You two need to be the picture of love," Bunk reminded them. "Just keep up that act you had on yesterday; it looked mighty fine. You could have fooled me, and I knew it was a ruse. This Mr. Van Lowe is an experienced private investigator; he probably can sniff a lie a mile away."

"I wouldn't be too sure," Mac replied when the door slid open to reveal Vinnie's office directly across the hall, next to a huge green plant in an expensive looking planter. "Rumor has it you pay him to tell you what you want to hear. Easy money is his game."

"Well, don't let on you already know his secrets."

**Break**

Without the buffer of Bunk in the car with them today, the air between them felt strained to Veronica. She did her best to keep her eyes on the road and not on the passenger beside her, who spent the majority of the ride checking his phone every few minutes, changing the radio station, or staring out of his window. The two of them weren't talking much, which suited her just fine.

Yup. It suited her just fine to not talk to him. What did she need talk to him about, anyway? There wasn't much to say that hadn't been dissected already, and they knew what they were headed into. They were as prepared as they could be. Yup. She was just fine putting all of her concentration into her very fine driving skills. _Nice and straight, Veronica. Stay in your lane, keep your eyes on the road, and don't talk._

"So," she heard herself ask, "How's your arm today?"

So much for not talking.

Out of the corner of her eye she watched Logan rotate his arm experimentally. "Much better, thanks."

"Hmm," she answered noncommittally, determinedly keeping her head straight. "I'm glad."

"Yeah, the doc said I would be back to normal activity relatively quickly with a little therapy. Seeing as I haven't got any therapy yet, I'm not sure 'normal' will be as soon as he suggested." Logan paused. "Do you think that what we're doing really is the safest thing?"

She tightened her grip on the wheel and glanced at him. "Going to Lamb?"

"Well, yeah, going to Lamb. You say it like we're going to Slaters for burgers and shakes. Yesterday, you wouldn't even let me leave the house without a disguise, and today we're traipsing straight into the lion's den without so much as Groucho Marx glasses on my face. What makes you think that they won't just book me and to hell with whether or not I'm guilty or that they haven't got enough evidence? Who's to say they won't send an underling to follow us when we leave again?"

"Oh, he probably will. Have us followed, I mean. But we're ready for it. I'm not worried."

She said the last a little too confidently, and he picked up on it. "That sounds just like you. When have you ever worried that a plan of yours might not go as expected?"

"Would you relax? Cliff is meeting us there; between the two of us, you have more legal counsel than Lamb has in his little finger. Between ol' Cliffie and me, Lamb will be backpedaling so fast he won't even remember why you're there."

"Your confidence is inspiring."

"To some people, confidence is cockiness."

"Nothing wrong with a little swagger. I find it rather hot."

Her chuckle came out strangled. "You're impossible."

"Probably. But it's always benefitted me." She didn't respond.

They rode in silence for five or more minutes before Logan prompted, "So…are we gonna talk about it?"

"About what?" Veronica asked, refusing to admit she knew full well what.

He huffed, and Veronica's heart swelled a little. She smiled to herself when he grumbled, "And you say _I'm_ the impossible one?"

She looked over at him and then back at the road. After a beat, she yielded a little by saying, "We don't need to talk about it. It will just make things awkward."

"Hmm," he responded in the same tone as when she'd said it earlier. "Only because you're making it awkward."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The smirk he gave her showed his amusement. "Nothing." She was relieved when he seemed to let it drop. "So…were you successful with the whiteboard?"

Veronica shot him a fleeting look. "A little. He was really exhausted. I asked him if he knew who hurt him. He couldn't write the name, and he didn't respond with blinking to any of the names I prompted. But, I asked him if he knew the combination to his safe and he wrote the word 'bar' as an answer. I think. It was kind of hard to read it."

"'Bar'?" Logan repeated. "Any idea?"

"Not really," Veronica sighed in disappointment. "It could be an address to his favorite bar…or….hell, I don't know."

"Bar…bar…" Logan said slowly, "like _the_ Bar? Like the Bar exam you're supposed to take in New York? Could the combo be a date?"

"Oh my God. Of course." She felt stupid that she hadn't pieced it together right away. Even as excitement coursed through her, Veronica had the momentary qualm of where her quick wit and ability to think on her feet had gone. Years ago, it would have taken less than three minutes to figure out what her dad had meant. "You're completely right. I was so worried that I wasn't going to understand him that I didn't even consider that he meant the Bar. Of course it's the Bar. He's known that date for months. I'll try it as soon as I get to the office, while you're being interrogated by Lamb."

"That's a cheerful thought."

"Hey." She glanced at him. "It'll be fine. We went over everything with Cliff. It's going to take all afternoon; we already know that. But then it will be over."

"Or maybe then I'll be in custody."

"Stop it."

"What? You can't convince me otherwise."

"I thought you said my cockiness was inspiring."

"I'm pretty sure I said your cockiness was sexy, but regardless, my penchant for reality is clouding my confidence of the situation."

She laughed.

They rode in companionable silence for a bit longer until Logan leaned his seat back. She made no comment when he propped his arm against the door and shut his eyes. Within three minutes, Logan's heavy breathing indicated his slumber. Exhausted herself, Veronica tightened her hands on the wheel and tried to focus on the drive, all the while her mind turning traitorously.

She'd lain awake a long time the night before, thinking hard about her life and what she wanted out of it. All of the things she'd been working toward over the past decade seemed so trivial and small…so worthless compared to the things that mattered most to her. The last few days had put things in perspective. Coming home made her life in New York seem small and unimportant. None of her friends back East even knew she'd left town, Veronica had realized with a heavy heart. There was no boyfriend to go home to, not even a roommate. The truth was that not one person from New York had called her to see how she was or even to find out about how last week's job interviews had gone.

How completely pathetic.

What she'd come to grasp, laying there for hours on end was that the people that mattered most to her and the ones that had made those phone calls to her, were in California. Specifically, Neptune, California.

What did New York hold for her? The promise of an amazing career, sure.

But, was it what she wanted?

She pulled into a parking space front and center of the sheriff's department and turned the ignition off. She leaned over the steering wheel and stared up at the grand-looking building. "What are you hiding, Lamb?"

**Break**

Mac had seen Vinnie Van Lowe on television many times over the years, but never in person. In the flesh, Mac could tell that the man had aged since he'd left office. He had even developed a beer belly that hung grossly over his belt. The beige colored jacket he wore was dotted with grease stains, and she felt that the too small polo shirt beneath it did nothing to build confidence with potential clientele. His once jet-black hair was now speckled salt and pepper, and the lines about his face made him look haggard and worn.

When he extended his hand for her to shake, Mac found it to be clammy and weak and she quickly withdrew, resisting the urge to wipe it clean. When he shook the men's hands, Mac noticed that Mr. Van Lowe's grip seemed surer and less restrained.

Odd.

She'd grown quiet then, realizing right away what the difference was. Mac had been around many men like Van Lowe before…men who were clearly uncomfortable around women, and in particular women who were smarter and more successful than they were. The way he barely looked at Mac made her feel as if Vinnie classified her as the 'little lady' and had already written her off as unimportant.

Which was just as well. She had a job to do, and the less attention Vinnie Van Lowe paid her the better off she'd be.

They were ushered past the reception area and into Vinnie's back office. Once there, Vinnie bellowed for his secretary to bring in drinks. While Vinnie took his seat, the three of them settled down into the chairs across from his large mahogany desk as the young secretary rushed in with a tray filled with bottled water and soda.

"Now, tell me what brought you all in today," Vinnie prompted when the secretary bustled out of the door and closed it behind her. He steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his stuffed chair. "My website's questionnaire only gave me the basic facts."

"Well," Dick began, settling his hand over Mac's knee, "my lady-love here has agreed to be my bride."

Vinnie gave a slow, uninterested blink. "Fascinating."

Dick's fingers squeezed her leg through the fabric of her jeans. Wanting to stall the progression those fingers were making up her thigh, Mac slid her hand over his and threaded their digits together. She wet her lips. "The thing is…" Vinnie glanced over to her. "My dad here has heard a slew of bad things about Dick's dad and well…"

Bunk exhaled dramatically. "This boy's daddy ain't nobody's friend. I want to know where he is and what that man's been up to these past six years since he got out of the slammer." He leaned forward and pressed a finger firmly onto the top of the desk to emphasize his point. "My little princess here ain't marrying no one whose papa is gonna come run back in and ruin her life."

"Daddy!" Mac objected loudly, hoping she sounded embarrassed. "Dick is sitting right here!"

"Well, he needs to hear this!" Bunk said firmly. "That no good Daddy—"

"Now, hold on," Vinnie interrupted with the air of someone who has diffused many such situations. "Let's start at the beginning and work our way to where you are right now." He gave Dick and appraising look. "You're Richard Casablancas the Junior, correct?"

"Well, I'm definitely not the senior!" Dick chortled conspiratorially.

"Plastic surgery has come a long way, but not that far," Vinnie chuckled, and they all laughed along with him. Then he sobered, and said, "So…what you're wanting me to do is find your father?"

"We just want to…" Bunk trailed off, as if thinking, "make sure he's settled in Timbukto or whereever the hell he is, and that he's not gonna come sniff around here ever again. Our good name doesn't need to be dragged through the mud with his. If his life is quiet, then we want to keep it that way. No need to drag police or anything into it, for all of our sake's."

"So, if you hate the Casablancas name so much, why are you allowing this wedding to go through?" Vinnie asked, and then raised his hands in apology with a smarmy grimace. "Excuse me, that's really none of my business. What I should have said is that to be able to dig in further to where Mr. Casablancas Senior is, I'll need to ask a few questions to get a feel for what kind of investigation I'll need to do for you."

While Vinnie yammered on, Mac silently observed the setup of his office. His laptop was closed and sat atop the large desk. A penholder sat on one corner beside a nameplate that had his name "VINCENT VANLOWE P.I." proudly displayed in bold, black letters. A few thinly-filled files were neatly stacked on the other corner, but that was all that sat on his desk. A short but wide file cabinet was behind where Vinnie sat, but it was obviously also used as a table. A printer, various cameras, and file organizers filled with an assortment of paperwork were strewn across the cabinet. Mac assumed that he probably put what he was most currently working on onto that cabinet. A quick look around confirmed that there was no safe in this room, unless it was hidden inside a wall.

Mac reached into her purse and pulled out a tube of lip balm. She uncapped it and generously applied it to her lips while nodding along with whatever Vinnie had just told them. She tried to look as interested as possible while she noted where she could plant the little bug that she held.

She just needed the opportunity, and Dick should be supplying that in four…three…two…one…

"So, Lowe. I see these pictures up of you with Magic Johnson, wow, that's old school!" Dick stood up and made his way over to the row of pictures that lined a wall. "Wow, quite a few celebrities. You are quite the canoodler!"

Vinnie came around his desk and joined Dick. "Yeah, those were the days." Vinnie visibly puffed up, patting his stomach as if it were not dribbling over his belt disgustingly. "Back before I was a P.I., I was a bit of a baller."

"Really?" Bunk replied, sounding interested. He stood up as well and strolled over to take closer look at the pictures. "You must have been fast, your height doesn't measure up to these guys. Wow, Dominic Wilkins?"

"Oh, yeah, me and the Dom go way back!"

Mac used the twenty seconds she knew she had to quickly attach the tiny, state-of-the-art bug underneath the ink blotter on Vinnie's desk. She kept her eye fastened on the men the entire time. Her heart was racing with the fear that she wouldn't be fast enough, but somehow she managed it.

Bunk turned first, catching her eye. With her nod, he cleared his throat and said, "Enough of this B.S., I think we need to get down to the numbers, and I want to know how long this 'research' is going to take you."

Before Vinnie turned back, Mac had pulled out her phone and was scrolling through her Instagram account. "Ooh, honey, Ryan finally posted that video!"

"Aw, dude, that's gonna go viral!" Dick sat beside her and took the phone from her hand, playing along. "That shit's unreal, man."

"Put the phone down. Let's get down to business," Bunk ordered gruffly.

Thoroughly exasperated, Mac huffed as Dick handed the phone to her and she stuffed it back into her purse.

Vinnie opened his laptop and click-clacked through his screens. "I think, with all the information that you've given me, this should be a fairly simple process. Richard Casablancas Senior shouldn't be too hard to find."

"Well, the Sheriff's Office never found him," Dick said. Vinnie shot him an annoyed glare. Dick Senior had been on the lamb for many years, which, if Mac was counting back correctly, would have been when Vinnie had been sheriff. "I mean, I actually don't think they even looked for him," Dick amended quickly when Mac dug her heel into the top of his foot, "The FBI couldn't even find him, I don't think."

"Well, Mr. Casablancas could have employed someone to make sure he stayed lost."

"Right you are, Mr. Van Lowe. Right you are."

***Break**

The new Sheriff's Office was set on a wide corner with large trees and a perfectly cut lawn. The building was tall and grand now, with large windows that let in the light, as if to exude that the people within it would listen with an open mind. Logan had always steered as far away from this place as he could. The old building itself held few good memories for him and all that had not changed with the move to the new building. The Sheriff's Office had always been the place where nightmares began for him. Rarely did anything good come from the Balboa County Sherriff's Office.

Without preamble, he and Veronica walked up the steps to the front door. It felt wrong to be coming here, but Logan trusted Veronica. If she felt confident that this was the right move, he had to believe that it was. But that didn't calm his nerves any.

"There's Cliff," Veronica noted when they reached the top step.

Logan looked up and sure enough, Cliff McCormack stood waiting for them at the double doors. Dressed in a cheap looking suit and carrying a flimsy looking briefcase, Cliff smiled warmly at both of them. "Kiddos! It's great to finally see the two of you!"

"Hey, Cliffie." Veronica shook the lawyer's hand. "Is this gonna go all right?"

Suddenly serious, Cliff turned to walk alongside of them as they entered the building. "Lamb won't want to talk with me until he realizes I represent Mr. Echolls here, and even then, he won't like it. I've been spending too much time down here as it is and Lamb already is giving me death glares. I swear, if I had a bottle of scotch right now to play the drinking game, I'd be wheeling into Neptune General on a gurney as many times as he's shot me daggers. The guy's patience for ambulance chasers is waning. My feelings have been wounded."

"Good thing you don't bruise easily," Logan quipped. "I'm like a peach, and I'd be black and blue. It'd mess up my good looks and I couldn't have that. But you, nah, you're good. You're like a cue ball. You can just get hit over and over."

"And I sink them every time," Cliff agreed with a chuckle. "Plus I always come back for more."

The vestibule led straight into the Sheriff's Office and before Logan felt ready they were strolling up to the counter where a pretty brunette was standing, phone in hand. She briefly looked at them and held a finger up, indicating she'd be with them shortly.

"The good news is no one here seems to know who you are," Veronica muttered to Logan under her breath. "You/re obviously not on an America's Most Wanted Poster just yet."

"I'll save the victory lap for later." Logan rapped his knuckles on the counter anxiously. "Do you think we might—" he stopped midsentence, his eyes suddenly fixed on a man in uniform in the very back. Something about him felt familiar.

The officer was tall and stocky, which in itself was nothing special. But the way the man carried himself made Logan give him a second look. A moment later , he stuttered with realization. "That officer," he said to Veronica, gesturing with his chin and purposely not pointing, "That man was at your dad's office the first night I met with him."

Veronica's eyes zeroed in on the man. "I think I know him."

"Really? How could you know someone in this town when I don't? You've been gone ten years!"

"Because." Veronica smiled. "Unlike you, I solved a lot of cases for a lot of people during my life in Neptune. Mr. Clayton over there was an 02er whom I am sure was too insignificant for you, as an 09er, to remember. He became a kind of client by default, if you will."

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for reading. I'm working on getting this story complete, so I appreciate your interest. If you have a moment, please Review! I love reading your thoughts. Thank you to Bond, who has the patience like no one else I know. ;)_


	17. Chapter 17 Lion's Den

**A/N: Thank you to all that are sticking with this story. Thanks Bondopoulos, who has been amazingly positive and helpful in your beta process with whiny me. Ain't no one else on FanFic like ya, glad I have ya! Thank you to all those who have left reviews, favorited, and followed. It's flattering, but mostly it's great that the story has generated such great interest. Thanks again.**

Chapter 17 Lion's Den

"A client by default?" Logan asked doubtfully. "Like one that left your office satisfied?"

Veronica tsked. "You say that as if I am often unsatisfying."

"Trust me," Logan said with a smirk, "that is not what I'm implying at all. You always left me more than satisfied. Wait. That's not true."

"Hey!" Veronica elbowed him.

He grinned playfully. "Let me clarify."

"I think you ought to keep that foot of yours in your mouth and just shut the hell up."

"Well, if it isn't the one-eight-hundred ten-dollar an hour, 'if you cannot afford an attorney one will be provided for you' attorney-at-law, Cliff McCormack. Which low-life thug is crying innocence today?" From across the counter a greasy-haired man whom Veronica recognized as Sheriff Daniel Lamb was sauntering toward them. When Logan turned to face him, Veronica watched Lamb's expression turn even sourer. "Well, lookie at what the cat dragged in."

"We came to request a meeting with you, Sheriff," Cliff informed him. "All three of us."

"Three?" Lamb repeated. His eyes met and held Veronica's. "Let me guess."

"No need to guess, Sheriff," she chirped, "I can tell you already know."

"Your reputation precedes you, Ms. Mars," Lamb said snidely. "You're right, you don't need an introduction."

"I'm flattered, Sheriff. Oh, and, by the way, thank you for putting out all that misleading information on the news." She smiled. "I see you've been keeping true to the Lamb legacy."

"Veronica."

Cliff's voice came out in a warning and Veronica held up her hand to stop him from saying any more. "Oh, I know, Cliffie. I'll watch myself." To Lamb, she said, "There was an incorrect piece on Channel Nine's news yesterday, regarding my father's Buick Le Sabre. I just wanted to come down to clear up the confusion and let you know that, in fact, his vehicle has not been stolen. Since he's been in the hospital from that unsolicited attack last week, I, as his daughter, have needed a means of transportation."

Lamb sneered, but Veronica saw a slight flash of uncertainty glance over his features. "The media must have gotten that wrong."

"Yes, they must have," Veronica agreed. "Tell me. How long has the Sheriff's Office worked off of wild speculation and rumor?"

***Break***

They left Vinnie's office with a signed contract in hand. The moment they climbed into the rental, Mac took her phone out and began tapping through the apps. She accessed the bug she'd planted on Vinnie's desk and Vinnie's voice broke through right as Bunk started the car.

At first the sound was garbled but after a few moments, Mac heard what sound like Vinnie humming or whistling, she couldn't quite tell which. She cast a curious glance up at Dick, who was sitting in the passenger seat and craned around to listen.

She smirked at his look of concentration as he listened along with her. Distracted by his expression, she was surprised when he said, "I know that tune, man...is it..l think it might be..yeah, it's Hall and Oates!"

"Dick, seriously, who cares what song he's singing?" Mac retorted, pressing the volume up to full capacity. "What does it even matter?"

But Dick wasn't listening to her. "Dude, it's 'Private Eyes'!"

"'Private Eyes'?" Mac repeated, a sudden feeling of trepidation washing over her. Something about the name of that song didn't set right with her. Something Veronica used to say about Vinnie Van Lowe and his humor….

Through the transmitter they heard the humming stop and Vinnie suddenly was talking. Mac motioned for Dick to shut up when they heard Vinnie say, _"Get me M."_ There was a pregnant pause and then, _"I got news."_

Excited, and a little worried, Mac looked up and met Bunk's eye in the rearview mirror.

 _"Dick Casablancas just left my office, I know, right? …I say there's no such thing as coincidences…trust me…"_

"Sheesh, Macster, you should have tapped into his phone line," Dick complained, seemingly unperturbed by Vinnie's topic of conversation.

"Hush, Dick! Seriously."

 _"Yeah, he was in here with his girlfriend…saying he wants me to find his father!...I can take that money and run…right!...all the way to the bank!..."_ Vinnie chortled obnoxiously. _"If he wants me to find him, I'll find him! He can't be that hard to find…..no. I don't think so. None of them know I know that. There's still a car there. I think the guy's been…bow…chicka-bow-wow…over at the girlfriend's house."_

From the front seat, Dick cheered, "Yeah, man, right on! The Dickster's gettin' some action!"

Mac felt her cheeks stain red and she firmly kept her eyes locked on her device.

 _"Yeah, he looks whipped. But why they were really here…I'm not sure what their game is."_ Vinnie paused. _"No….all right…yup. I'll keep you posted."_

There was an obvious click of the phone being set into its cradle and then the whistling started up again.

""Watching your every move'," Dick sang along with Vinnie's whistling. "Ye..ah."

"Dick!" Mac objected. "Doesn't any of this worry you?"

"Psh…Van freakin' Lowe?" Dick guffawed, breaking from his crooning. "I'd be more worried if the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man jizzed me with his marshmallow gun. Vinnie's useless."

"Not so useless that he won't lead us where we need to go," Bunk pointed out, suddenly joining the conversation. "He doesn't seem to realize you planted a bug, Mac. The whole goal of this was to get that bug inside that building, that room. We're the successful ones here. He just has to think he's the one winning."

"He's got tiger blood."

"Yeah, and that works out really well. Winning!"

***BREAK***

"Clayton!" Lamb unexpectedly bellowed, veering away from the counter, "Come over here. I need you to take a statement."

The officer whom Logan had pointed out not five minutes earlier looked up from behind his desk. Norris Clayton stood up quickly and hastily made his way over to the counter where his superior was beckoning him.

"Yes, Sheriff?" Deputy Clayton's eagerness seemed apparent and Logan felt slight disappointment tinged with curiosity.

"Take Ms. Mars and get a statement from her regarding last week's explosion on Rosart. She is now claiming that the car that we've been considering as stolen," Lamb slid his gaze from the deputy to Veronica and then back, "she has permission to use. While that may be the case, I need a full report regarding this incident and also as to why," he looked over to Veronica again, "she chose to aide and assist Mr. Echolls instead of bringing him here to me." Lamb cleared his throat and stood up straight. "Now, I have to ask that we take you, Mr. Echolls, into the interrogation room."

"With my lawyer," Logan prompted, bouncing on his heels slightly and motioning with his head toward Cliff, thoroughly enjoying the pinched look of displeasure on Lamb's face. "Mr. McCormack is my attorney."

"Of course he is," Lamb said unpleasantly. "You do realize there are better?"

"And you do realize that I didn't ask your opinion?" Logan responded cheerfully. "Miranda never gave opinions or recommendations of representation in the past; has that changed since the last time I was arrested?"

"Now, Logan," Cliff said, lightly touching Logan's elbow as they followed the sheriff into the back, "No one said anything about being arrested. We're just here to help with the investigation, is all."

"Right. That part slipped my mind."

***Break***

Veronica wasn't surprised that Lamb took Logan and Cliff into an interrogation room without her. Standard procedure was, after all, standard procedure. She would have been disappointed in Lamb if he had invited her to join them. She bid them a confident adieu and turned back to Deputy Norris Clayton.

Norris was very much the way Veronica remembered from high school. He was tall and hugely built, not quite six feet tall but wide as a door. To Veronica's petite five feet, Norris' near six feet could have been foreboding, but she remembered his kindness toward her and felt assured that he was in fact the man that Logan had seen at her father's office. Norris was on their side, she was sure of it.

"So. Deputy Clayton," Veronica started, weighing her words, watching his expression, knowing that he was most likely on guard in this environment. "I have to tell you, I'm surprised to see you here. I never pictured you in law enforcement."

He said nothing; instead he met her eye and motioned her to follow him back his desk. After they settled in across from each other, he pulled out a pen and paper. "So we need a statement of the afternoon in question. What can you tell me of the incident?"

The officer was all business. There wasn't a flicker of recognition besides that brief look at the counter, but Veronica had a sense that he was trying too hard to appear unaffected by her presence within the precinct. Before she'd gotten here, she'd resigned herself to the fact that she'd be questioned and so she patiently answered the questions Norris asked her before she finally said, "Deputy Clayton. Seems law enforcement gave you a justly deserved chance to prove you're not a menace to society."

Norris looked up from his notes and glanced around the room before looking at her. "Thanks to some very good investigative skills, I didn't have to worry about having to redeem myself." Veronica sat back in her chair in triumph, relieved when he gave her a slight smile. "How's your dad been since the accident?"

She blew out a breath. "He's…recovering."

"That's good to hear." Again, Norris looked around the room and then leaned over his desk closer to her. Voice lowered, he said, "He's a good guy, your dad."

"I know."

He nodded slowly, staring unblinkingly into Veronica's eyes. After a few moments, he sat back and then set his pen aside.

"I need you to sign this document that states that what you told me today is true and to the best of your knowledge," Norris told her, shuffling a stack of papers before handing them across to her. "The bottom three pages are for your records."

Veronica took the pen he offered her and signed her name on the bottom line. She then thumbed through the paperwork and then pulled out the three papers he'd referred to skim them quickly. As soon she read the last page, her eyes jumped to his in question. He nodded his understanding and said, "If you have any questions, please call the number on the last sheet; after hours is best."

His tone held little inflection, but Veronica felt a flare of excitement. The last page looked like a police report of some kind and at the bottom was a phone number. She'd known that Norris was still a good guy, and here was the proof.

"Thank you. If there's anything more I can help you with, please call." She tore off an edge of paper from her notes to jot down her information and slid it over to him. "Or email me at this address."

Norris stood up then, and, slipping the little bit of paper into his pocket, extended his hand out for her to shake. Veronica followed his lead, pulling the strap of her messenger bag onto her shoulder, stuffing the papers he had just given her into the largest pocket as she stood while he said, "Thank you for the contact information. I do need to ask that you be available and not leave the area in case we have more questions. I'm sure you already know that the statement you just gave me doesn't match what the investigation has yielded so far. If you could send in the title or registration of the Le Sabre, it would benefit us immensely. We'd like to clear up this…misunderstanding as soon as possible so that we are able to move on to other viable leads in this case."

Veronica nodded. "I'm sure the registration is in the glove box. I can run out and get it?"

"You can just take a picture and email it over... Its n clayton at balboa county dot gov."

She smiled. "Great. I'll send it right away. And I'll look over this paperwork tonight to see if there is anything I may have missed or forgotten to tell you, and get back to you as soon as I can."

"Please do. Feel free to contact me anytime."

***Break***

There was still crime scene tape around the front of the Mars, Investigations building when Veronica pulled up thirty minutes later. She drove around to the back, got out, looked around and then entered through the back entrance that she and Logan had used right before the his car had exploded.

She let herself into her father's office and flipped on the lights.

"The key was just where you said it would be," Bunk's voice boomed from the far corner.

Veronica shut the door. "How was Vinnie?"

"Just the way you described," Bunk said with a chuckle. "All pomp and ready for a pay check. He took the retainer and started right in. Mac got the bug placed, and he called Morrison right after we left. It's all started. I dropped the other two off at Dick's beach house. There was a car just down the street. They're headed out on their goose chase, see if they get followed. They will, though. No question about that. How was Logan when you left him?"

"Good, I think," Veronica said, pulling out the papers that Deputy Clayton had given her from inside of her messenger bag. "The rental is there waiting for him, your guys are on it, so thank you."

"Well, of course. That's why I'm here, you know."

She flung the bag down in a chair, still tightly holding the papers. "In other news, I think we found ourselves an in at the Sheriff's Department."

"An in?"

She nodded. "Pretty sure that along with Deputy Sacks, there was another informant from within the walls of that office coming to Dad with information." As Veronica told Bunk about Norris and how Logan had recognized him, she handed over the papers. "I only skimmed these briefly, but Norris gave this to me along with the statement I signed. It looks like some kind of police report, but none of the names look familiar to me. Will you look over it and see what you think while I check the safe? Dad may have given me a clue as to what the combination really is."

**Break**

Logan had been correct. The safe's combination had been the date of her Bar exam all along. That was the first thought that flitted through Veronica's mind when she heard the telltale click and pulled the lever successfully down. She swung the heavy door open and stared at the contents with a faint smile on her face feeling as if she'd found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

There was a jump drive sitting on the top shelf and an accordion file folder below it. She quickly pocketed the jump drive and pulled out the heavy file folder, sliding it to the floor and then opening the top to scan the labels.

It really was like a finding pot of gold.

The first label was written in her father's neat script 'Larry Morrison'. Veronica felt her heart stop for a moment, and she felt vindicated that they'd figured that out already. The file behind that was labeled 'Real Estate', which Veronica barely glanced at, knowing she'd have to come back to it later. The next labels were 'Manny Rose', 'Balboa Sheriff's Office', 'Cliff's', 'Emails', and 'Sandra Lupeo'.

The last was a name that Veronica not seen yet. Veronica took out the contents of that file and spread the few pages out evenly over Keith's large desk. She looked at each, one by one, reading the information slowly, attempting to piece together what she could.

**Break**

The beach house was being staked out; Mac would bet her life on it. There had been a car about four houses down from Dick's that she was sure belonged to none other than Vinnie Van Lowe. That's what they'd all decided when Bunk dropped her and Dick off. So the three of them had given a great show of saying good-bye, complete with a great big hug and kiss from Bunk as if he really were Mac's father. Dick had even shaken the older man's hand stoically as if he were trying to impress his future father-in-law.

Then Dick had herded Mac into the house once Bunk had driven off. Dick gathered up some clothes and other things for Logan and for himself, and then the two of them had climbed into Dick's Rubicon and set off toward Neptune High.

The Jeep was newer and the inside was pristine, but Mac found herself once again surprised by Dick's economy. He could have been riding in an Escalade or some kind of fancier SUV, but the surfer chose to drive a Jeep. Only a couple of days before she'd been surprised at his low-key living quarters, and this just added to the enigma that was Dick.

"How do you like your Jeep?" Mac asked nonchalantly, running a hand along the passenger's side dashboard. "My brother really loves these; he wants one so badly."

"I love this thing. It's the best for what I use it for; trail riding and going over the sand, man." Dick slapped the dash with obvious affection. "Hell, yeah, Logan and I did the Rubicon trail last year, it was epic. We _rolled_ my baby, man, _rolled_ it! Ugh, that was fun pulling it back over. Good thing there were like twenty Jeeps behind us, man, every one of them with wenches."

"That explains the dent in the door," Mac commented. "Or is that from another time?"

"Hell, battle scars are the point of a Rubicon, dude; it's a rite of passage. One does not clean up a Rubicon's wounds. That's just wrong."

She laughed quietly. When he glanced over at her questioningly, Mac shrugged. "You just always seemed like more of a pretty boy."

"What does that mean?" Dick asked, indignant.

"Well, come on. You own the 09er, you have a ton of money, your dad was –"

"Don't. Don't bring my dad into this," Dick said, his voice suddenly harsh. "I don't claim anything to do with him. Today with Vinnie was fun and games, but in reality, I've disowned the bastard."

"Okay, I apologize," Mac conceded quickly, feeling remorseful. "I didn't mean anything by it. I only meant that…I was in the house you grew up in. It wasn't exactly hillbilly. Especially by 09er standards."

"First of all, a Jeep does not equal hillbilly. Second, that wasn't really the 'house I grew up in'. I would have thought the Beav would have told you that."

Mac glanced over at Dick curiously. He, on the other hand, was focused on the road and didn't look at her. Quietly, she told him, "Cassidy and I never really talked about that, I guess."

"So then what _did_ the two of you talk about?"

"Quantum physics and the Pythagorean Theorem," Mac said drily, and Dick grinned. She grinned back. "Fibonacci numbers and how they fit so predictably into everyday life."

"Ah, that Fibonacci character. Quite the trickster."

"Patterns from hell."

"Actually, the Fibonacci sequence was the one Law at Hearst I honestly understood," Dick admitted, surprising her. "I squeezed out a B in Modern Math that semester." He laughed when saw her mouth agape. "I know; a B for the Dickster should have made all the papers."

"I am incredibly surprised you didn't shout it from the rooftops."

"Well, that _was_ during my dark period. Van Gogh had his blue period, I had my black. I only wrote in black pen."

She burst out with unexpected laughter. "That sounds like a very dark time indeed."

"Yes, well, I was there. It was." Dick tapped the steering wheel. "When I lost a little of my mojo, I started paying a little bit more attention in class. Did you ever have Dr. Rajavi for math? He was impossible to understand. I think he got off the boat and came straight to campus to teach. Listening to him to him try to speak English was like calling into AOL online back in the day. You'd end up in India."

"America Online? You're aging yourself, Dick, and I never had the pleasure."

"Hey, even 09ers ran across slow internet connections when they were twelve years old and trying to access good porn." He flashed another grin at her. "God, it was like pulling teeth sometimes. The World Wide Web has really gone places in the past fifteen years. Dial-up porn was a true test of endurance."

"A little stamina never hurt anyone."

"Yeah, well, the ladies don't generally complain."

 _You don't have to remind me,_ came the unbidden thought. She felt herself squirm. "Anyhoo… back to your original point?"

"Huh?" Dick glanced over at her. "You don't want to talk about porn?"

"Not especially."

"Hmm. You disappoint me."

"What can I say? Porn in the daylight is just not the same as porn in the dark."

Dick emitted a whoop of satisfied glee. "Well, I'll just have to make sure the darkness lasts longer than normal when I'm with you."

**break***

It was past class hours, but just barely, when Mac and Dick finally pulled into the familiar parking lot of Neptune High. Mac automatically found herself looking around, inspecting the exterior of the high school for changes. These walls held some joy for her, but not much. There'd been more heartache here than laughter, but Mac worked at not letting that affect her in a negative way anymore. The first five years post-graduation had been the toughest by far, and the last five had been a steady increase of improvement. Mac was glad to have moved on from this place and all of the demons that had once held her back.

There was a distinctive green and yellow banner that was strung across the entryway, proudly touting the Pirates were number one. She and Dick crossed beneath it and walked into the Quad where there were still a number of students standing in small groups and sitting at tables, open textbooks and notebooks scattered throughout the laptops, tablets, and cell phones.

"These kids would be so bored with your technology, Mac," Dick commented when they approached the double doors. "They could build a super computer in their sleep."

"Are you saying I'm obsolete?" She threw a look over her shoulder to a group of teenage boys engrossed with their phones.

"Oh, no, I would never imply that you're archaic. But you got to admit, high school would have a hell of a lot more interesting if we'd have had tablets, smartphones, and Instagram."

"True. Instead, we had Purity Tests and Pirate Points. Utter boredom. Whatever did we used to do with our time?"

***Break***

Logan stared at Sheriff Dan Lamb in wonderment. This sheriff was possibly more of an ass than his younger brother had been.

He had been sitting next to Cliff in this hot confined interrogation room for near on two hours, and Logan was sure that there was every the chance in the world that they'd be sitting here for another two, if not longer. Logan was even more positive that Lamb was only holding them there merely to be a jackass and not because he had any reason to.

He wondered how Veronica was getting along at Mars Investigations and whether Bunk had made it there yet. He wondered how the appointment with Vinnie Van Lowe had gone and whether Mac had been able to plant a bug.

The slam of the interrogation room's door jarred Logan from his thoughts and he turned to watch Deputy Clayton stroll in. Logan regarded him closely. When Veronica instantly recognized him it had made Logan feel as though he should have immediately recognized the officer as well. The night at Mars Investigations was fresh on Logan's mind now; set on a revolving play by play that only he could see. He kept seeing Keith Mars' back door open and Clayton exiting, quickly leaving.

Now that Logan thought about it, and also now that he realized it was important, there was something familiar about the burly-built deputy. He looked to be around Logan's age, which made sense because Veronica had implied he had once been a client. Back when she had clients most of them had been fellow students at either Hearst or Neptune High.

Logan wondered if he'd be able to get away with friendly banter or if Deputy Clayton was a surly as his expression suggested.

"What do you need, Clayton?" Lamb barked from his perch on the corner of the interrogation table, still glowering down Logan.

Logan gave a flat smile to the sheriff and then turned his attention back to the newest addition to the room.

"Sorry, Sir, but I wanted to let you know that we verified Ms. Mars' claim and that she does indeed have possession of the Le Sabre that is in fact Mr. Keith Mars' personal vehicle. There were no other—"

"That's enough, Deputy." Lamb stood up and gestured back to the door. "Let's take this out into the hallway."

"Oh, by all means, finish your conversation in here," Logan invited with a smirk. "I won't tell the higher-ups about the breech in protocol. It can be our little secret."

Lamb glared down at him before following Clayton out of the room.

After the door snapped shut, Cliff said, "Lamb really wants to arrest you. So badly."

"Yeah," Logan answered, letting himself give way to his concern, "but are you sure he won't?"

"You might be safer behind bars." Cliff raised his hands and grimaced. "Relax, that's only an observation. You gained Brownie points just by showing up. Now, if Veronica has done her job—"

"She has."

"Then Martina Vasquez will be waiting outside for your statement. Everything will go just as planned."

The door opened again and Lamb ambled back in. Logan noted how the sheriff hooked his fingers in the belt loop of his pants and moseyed in half on his heels. It reminded Logan of how a sheriff in a bad Western might wander into the local brothel to break up a fist fight. Lamb even completed the image with a toothpick settled between his teeth, making the greasy-haired officer look even more hickish. The only thing missing was the ten-gallon hat.

"I guess we're done here for now," Lamb said through gritted teeth, his scowl fixed on Cliff. "But we have to warn you that if you evade us, we will be putting a warrant out for your arrest—"

"On what grounds?" Cliff interrupted.

Lamb opened and closed his mouth dumbly. Then he frowned flatly. "Never you mind. The point is, Mr. Echolls' here is still under suspicion and we can make his life hell, don't you doubt it. We can find enough evidence to get that warrant."

"Haven't we given you enough evidence to prove the contrary?" Cliff asked rationally. "I hate to do your job for you, but there are plenty of people on Mr. Echolls' side who enjoy it, so if you'd like them to keep digging, then by all means—"

"McCormack, you're testing me," Lamb warned through gritted teeth.

"No, sheriff; testing you is me asking for you to prove that the gun in Eli Navarro's case is actually Eli Navarro's. This is just the precursor." Cliff snapped his briefcase closed after stuffing his laptop and papers inside. He stood up. "I've advised all of my clients, Mr. Echolls included, of their rights and what you, as the local brass, can and cannot do. And so Mr. Echolls knows that if and when you have more questions, your office will contact my office first to set up an appointment. No threats are necessary for that." He motioned for Logan to stand. "I'll be in touch, as per my usual, twice a day in regards to this case. We expect that your office will be diligently seeking the parties responsible for planting and detonating the bomb in the Beamer belonging to Mr. Echolls. We're also very interested in the progress of the incident in which Mr. Echolls was shot. It seems like you have a lot to do, Sheriff."

With that, Cliff opened the door and waited for Logan to pass by. Logan felt a surge of exhilaration at how Cliff handled the newest Sheriff Lamb, an obvious sign how the lawyer had had years of perfecting his interactions with Neptune's finest.

The door slammed behind them and they took long strides back down the hallway to the open office where they'd left Veronica. Knowing already that she would not be there, Logan didn't bother to look for her and instead searched out Deputy Clayton. He was disappointed when he didn't see the stocky officer.

"All right, now remember what we discussed and what you're need to say when you exit the building," Cliff reminded Logan in a low undertone. "We need you to come off as innocent and undeserving of this persecution."

"Uh, I _am_ innocent and undeserving of this persecution," Logan reminded him glibly.

* * *

 **A/N: So this is a shorter chapter than usual...forgive me. I wanted to get this chapter out a little earlier than the others have been coming, so hopefully that will help your forgiving heart :) Reviews are warmly welcomed! Thanks for reading!  
**


	18. Chapter 18 Surprise Visit

A/N: I'm really sorry this took so long to post. Thanks for hanging in there everyone! Thank you especially to Bond, who if you lived closer, I would probably be at your house everyday or vice versa having coffee and discussing VM world.

Chapter 18

From the looks of Keith's file, Veronica could see that he had been investigating Larry Morrison for at least six months, possibly closer to a year. From what Veronica could tell, Keith had gathered quite of bit of information and had come to some very interesting conclusions. The notes interspersed throughout the entire file indicated that Keith had been very close to exposing who Morrison really was.

Larry Morrison had, as she'd already discovered, been involved with the purchase of a lot of real estate in Neptune and the surrounding areas. He'd purchased a lot of the properties through public auctions and short sales, offering little to nothing to the sellers and acquiring them for pennies on the dollar.

She'd found the paperwork that proved what Logan had told her the day before: Larry Morrison had purchased the building on Adams Avenue in 2009. Three years later, Logan and Dick bought it from Morrison. Amidst that paperwork was the inspection report from Morrison's original purchase, which showed the building as having passed inspection with flying colors. Clipped to that paperwork was the inspection report that Logan commissioned. It was dated 2012 and indicated that the structure hadn't passed inspection, was unsafe, and needed to be demolished.

There was various other paperwork showing similar lots and buildings that Morrison had bought low and sold high. Veronica wondered how many of those were also structurally unsound. Keith had obtained most of the inspection reports from the time of Morrison's purchases. There were no updated inspection reports on any other properties other than the building on Adams. From what she could tell, Logan was the only buyer who had uncovered Morrison's underhandedness. Veronica wondered why.

She'd then turned to the file that Keith had labeled 'Sandra Lupeo' Veronica had Googled the name and discovered that the woman was the current County Inspector; she had been in office for a number of years. From the contents of the file, Veronica had realized right away that Lupeo and Morrison were on a first name basis. Keith had an interesting collection of emails between Morrison and Lupeo. Somehow, Keith had accessed one or both of their accounts and had found irrevocable proof that the two of them were on friendly terms. More than friendly if the nicknames they had for each other was any indication. The terms of endearment signed at the bottom of some of the emails made her feel dirty. The relationship was likely a little more than it should have been.

As she continued to pore over the file, Veronica heard the ping of an email coming into her inbox. She quickly tapped through the screens on her phone and saw that the email was from an anonymous sender, labeled with the date of Neptune High's recent ten-year reunion. Curious, Veronica tapped it open and began to read, noting that there was an attachment listed. The information written made her mouth go dry with amazement. She clicked open the attached file.

***Break***

Martina Vasquez of Channel Nine News was not the only reporter who had caught wind that Logan Echolls and his attorney would be giving an impromptu press conference outside of the Sheriff's Department sometime that afternoon. Count on Veronica, Logan thought fondly, to go above and beyond what was expected. Although he normally despised anything resembling media hounds and ambulance chasers, today Logan patiently stood next to Cliff and let the questions be lobbed at him in a constant assault of yelling. He let Cliff take the lead in all but a few of the questions. Cliff gave consent for Logan to answer some of the more straightforward questions, and he kept his responses brief and to the point. Mostly, Logan inspected the crowd with watchful eyes and was surprised when he saw someone familiar slinking in the background: one Manny Rose. He recognized the short Mexican, with his perpetual frown and dark complexion, skulking around in the back of the crowd, standing against a tree with his arms folded, watching the progression of the questioning with a dour look upon his face.

Finally, after thirty minutes of questioning, the crowd of reporters seemed satisfied with the answers that they had received and slowly began to disperse. Logan stepped down the stairs, tracking Manny Rose with his eyes, feeling abnormally confident in what he was about to do. He quickened his pace until he was directly behind the Mexican and reached out to wrap his fingers around the other man's bicep and swung him around.

"You," Logan snarled, his expression as fierce as he could make it. "What do you want with me?"

Manny's eyes grew wide and his mouth opened and closed before he sputtered, " _No hablo ingles! No hablo ingles! No comprendo_!" The sun glinted harshly on the many gold-capped teeth.

"You can say that all you want, but I don't believe you," Logan said, hauling the shorter man back over to the tree and out of the middle of the walkway. "But, if you would prefer, I can talk, and you can just listen. I think that works just fine for me." When he reached the tree, Logan pushed Manny up against the trunk. He looked around, satisfied that the reporters had disappeared and the only person witnessing this exchange was Cliff, who was slowly making his way over to them. "I want you to tell Morrison and Lamb that I know all about their little scheme. They can't set someone like me up and get away with it." Manny's eyes grew wide and Logan smiled appreciatively. "Yes, I know all about it, _Senor_ Rose. Being their minion, doing all of their dirty work must be so rewarding for you. How do they pay you, in Pesos or American dollars? If I were you, I'd hold out for something with a higher market value."

Manny struggled in Logan's hold, and after a moment, Logan released him and stepped back. Cliff came up behind him and Logan watched Manny straighten his shirt, muttering under his breath before he inched around the two of them and sprinted across the well-manicured lawn, disappearing around the corner of the building.

"How did that go?" Cliff asked conversationally, as if Logan assaulting another man was normal. "Get answers to any burning questions?"

"More like I just created the burning questions."

"Well, that's good." Cliff looked up into the sky. "It's a beautiful afternoon for a drive to home, don't you think?"

***Break***

Eli had been framed. The proof sat before her in the form of a PDF. Veronica stared at the open document. It was a report that Lamb thought no longer existed. Written within the report was the proof Cliff needed. The gun supposedly involved in the Eli Navarro/Celeste Kane case should have been sitting in an evidence locker during the time of the incident.

Someone within the department had obviously taken that gun out of lockdown and planted it at the scene. Then someone (likely the same someone) had taken the original written report associated with the gun and destroyed it.

Except that there was a second copy of the report. And she had it.

"Bunk!" Veronica yelled out to the outer office and clicked out of the PDF file to reread the accompanying email.

 _To: Veronica Mars, MI_

 _From: Anonymous_

 _Shrf Lamb is not what he seems. He has been tainting the city by hiring dirty cops and labeling those who refuse to conform as the problem. He has already labeled Dep Sacks as having a drug addiction that couldn't be controlled, leading to his untimely death at the hands of the underground drug trade. This story will be breaking news tonight._

 _Eli Navarro was an innocent bystander. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Now he's in the middle of an unfortunate incident that he had nothing to do with. Celeste Kane is royalty in this town, and because of that, Lamb is unable or unwilling to prosecute her. That leaves Navarro as the fall guy. He is not guilty of any crime, just as Logan Echolls is not. Attached is what proof that remains that the gun would have already been in lock up at the time of the incident involving Mr. Navarro. There is no possible way that weapon could have been used unless someone went into the Sheriff's department, gained access to the evidence room and removed it. The possibility of that happening is highly unlikely because access to that room requires fingerprint recognition and only those granted access are able to enter._

 _Lamb has his men on the ground keep a stash of drugs and weapons in their possession at all times to plant during raids, standard stops, or any other event that may warrant such brazen behavior by said officers. Not all of the officers on staff have been amenable to such activities and therefore have been put on other assignments or else were terminated after Lamb sifts out the chaff from the wheat. Lamb has a group of specific officers that are privy to the less than legal dealings and those men are paid well to keep quiet._

Veronica's eyes bounced up to Bunk's when he let himself in through the office door. "Our In just contacted me."

"That didn't take long."

"I wouldn't be surprised if he's been counting down the hours until he could talk to someone about this. With Dad injured and Sacks dead, I'm certain Norris is spooked." Her phone binged a text message. "While I hate to break the party up, it looks like we need to get a move on."

"Gather it all up, we might need a little bed time reading tonight."

"Well, you can read it all to me while we're driving. I don't think this information was meant to induce sleep."

**Break**

They found Wallace in the gymnasium standing on the sidelines while players ran up and down the basketball court. Almost immediately Wallace saw them, and he broke away from the other coaches to meet them halfway across the court.

The green, yellow, and white jumpsuit Wallace wore was reminiscent of years prior when he had been the Pirate's Point Guard. Back then, he'd been the MVP practically every game for two solid years, with a ton of promise and a bright future ahead of him. But Wallace had never had much interest in going pro, Mac knew, and had kept his aspirations in check. The day that Wallace had announced he would be returning to Neptune High as Assistant Coach hadn't necessarily shocked Mac, but she had been momentarily surprised by the news. Wallace had always seemed to be someone who would become bigger than what Neptune, California could offer. But Wallace seemed content and actually enjoyed his job, so Mac had never questioned his motives for choosing it. It felt like none of her business.

Wallace stopped in front of them both with a wide smile. "Fancy seeing you the two of you here. You just weren't quite ready to let it go yet after the reunion, were you?"

"Dick just wanted to check out the fresh meat."

"And Mac wanted to check out her next boss."

Wallace grinned wider and then led them over to the stands where a bunch of duffle bags sat clustered together. "Tell Veronica I wasn't about to go through her unmentionables; I just reached in with my eyes closed and grabbed out the first bit my hand found. And don't even get me started on the bathroom stuff…"

"She can go to Target, we get it," Mac responded, grabbing the duffle Wallace was extending out to her. "What's more important is that you tried."

"Hey, I try to be a good friend. I really do, but some things go beyond my limits."

***Break***

Logan and Cliff parted ways at the parking lot. Recognizing the rental car, Logan made his way over to the sedan and popped open gas cap to pull out the keys that Bunk's men had left for him. In no hurry, Logan took his time to open the driver's side door and slide inside the car. He sat behind the wheel for a little while, feigning first to check his phone and then next read a pamphlet that sat on the passenger seat before he finally started the engine and threw the car into reverse. He carefully pulled out of the parking spot and then drove slowly out of the lot, looping around the building and then out onto First Street.

When he drove by the front of the Sheriff's Department, Logan tried to see if he could spot Lamb or any other officer watching him, reasonably certain someone would be tailing him. He pulled into the first gas station he saw to fill up. He ran into the building and bought a bottle of water as well as a candy bar for the road and then meandered out of the store and back to his car. He set off again, checking the rearview mirror when he pulled out onto the street.

**Break***

Mac and Dick left Wallace to his coaching and walked the empty halls of the high school, slowly making their way back to the parking lot. Much like the outside of the building little had changed inside except new faces. They passed by the old computer lab and when Mac looked through the open doorway she saw two girls hovering over a tablet of some sort. She smiled to herself, thinking how it could have been a picture of her with Veronica so long ago.

Dick pointed out where his old locker was and Mac showed him a spot in the wall where she used to hide items she hadn't wanted Clemmons to find during his regular locker searches. They passed by the old Chemistry lab and got a kick out of the fact that Mr. Wu's name was still on the door.

"Still teaching unenthusiastic high school students of every socioeconomic background. One miserable atom at a time," Dick said, flicking the name placard with his middle finger. "That damn man nearly cost me my diploma."

"How did you end up getting one, Dick? You sat out graduation and then the next time…" she cleared her throat, realizing belatedly that the next time she'd really seen him had been at Cassidy's funeral. "Uh, well, the next fall you were suddenly enrolled at Hearst."

His gaze sharpened on her face as if he'd read her thoughts. He flipped back his head so his hair swept out of his eyes and he shrugged. "I squeaked through."

They continued through the hallways and out into the parking lot to Dick's Jeep. She pretended that she wasn't surprised when Dick opened the door for her and waited for her to get settled in her seat before jogging around to his side and sliding in. He started the ignition, checked his mirrors and then pulled out. "Never know when a damn teenager might come out of nowhere and bash into ya. Especially in this parking lot. No one used to pay attention here and I doubt they do now. Besides, I have to admit that my Jeep isn't quite as zippy as your snoozer."

"Would you stop calling it that?"

"Well, hell, sorry, don't get your panties in a wad." Dick maneuvered the jeep out onto the highway. "You never did tell me what happened to you to go all _urban_ and not so, oh, I don't know, what's the word? Mod, maybe? What the hell happened to you since high school?"

Mac picked at a spot on her jeans, suddenly uncomfortable. Her heart quickened with anxiety. "How are you so sure I'm not the same girl from high school?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Mac, you're the same. You're just hiding it or something. Like you don't let very many people see your full potential. I remember some of the stunts you used to pull. You were always smart. I think you just hide it better now."

Surprised by Dick's insight, Mac didn't say anything for few minutes. Dick slowed down and signaled to turn right on a street that she recognized as being near Dog Beach. She stared out her window. Eventually, she murmured, "I've just discovered I get into less trouble if I'm more forgettable."

"Forgettable, like your sleepy beige yawn-fest?"

"Hmm, probably. Beige smart cars and expensive tailored suits make people less suspicious of me, I've found. And…" she bit her lip, deciding. After a moment, she breathed out, "men don't equate lack of flash as easy."

"Repeat that, please?" The quick jerk of Dick's head told Mac that he'd heard her just fine.

She scratched her forearm awkwardly. "Sometimes I've just found that being me causes more trouble than it's worth."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She shook her head. She really didn't want to go there.

"Seriously, Mac; I am a believer of just being yourself." Dick's voice was theatric but turned more serious when he added, "And if you just give me the name of the bastard, I can have him taken care of pronto-like."

She laughed. "It's nothing like that, seriously, Dick. Besides, it's over and done with."

"What the hell happened?"

She debated just how much to say. Not many people even knew anyway. But Dick was someone whom she considered….different. And he wasn't someone who was in her normal circle of friends. "There was just a lawsuit at work, and I was kind of, umm…involved. It was sort of a he said, she said bullshit kind of thing."

Dick frowned. "You were involved how? What does that even mean? Was this at Kane Software?"

"No," she answered quickly. "Not at Kane Software. It was a while ago."

"Well, okay, then what about my other question?"

She considered her answer before evasively saying, "My superior at Sun Corp was interesting. He…used to say things. Do things. I didn't like it."

"What kind of mother fucking things did the bastard do?" Dick demanded vehemently.

She smiled at his intensity. "It's over, Dick. It's been more than a year since it was resolved, and he was fired. I moved on."

"But that doesn't mean you deserved it!"

"Well, no. But still. It's water under the bridge now."

"So tell me what happened."

"It was just a situation that I thought I had handled on my own and then it got blown way out of proportion. But it did teach me that I'm better off to just show up, do my job, keep my head down, and go home. And that's what I do now. It's worked out ever since, and it's a good thing that I've always kept a low profile at Kane Software. No one will ever suspect that I took those trackers out of the Kane labs, which is what we need at this point. To stay out of the limelight."

"I don't like it."

"What, staying low?"

"No; that you won't tell me what happened to you," Dick said emphatically.

"Awe, you're like the big brother I never had."

He shot her an annoyed look. "Trust me, not even close. I want to clobber that ass hole and you won't even tell me why."

 _Protectiveness. Watch yourself, Mac._ She sighed. "It started out as quips. Things that are fine out in the world, but are inappropriate in the work place." Dick pulled into a back parking lot to a store that Mac recognized as The Water Dog, the surf shop Dick owned. She smirked to herself when he pulled into a spot front and center that had a sign "Hot Boss Man" tacked to a post in front of it. "You're 'hot boss', huh?"

"Well, yeah, just look at me!" Dick flicked a hand dismissively. "It was a Christmas gift from the crew. They put it up and everything. But, hell, it's my parking space, what can I do about it?" He zeroed in on her face. "But don't keep changing the subject. What else happened?"

"Oh ho ho, I think this is very much the same subject. 'Hot Boss' here could get you into a lot of trouble."

"You're such a stick in the mud," he teased but turned more serious when he added, "Rip it down, then. It's all in fun. Ask any one of my employees; I've never been out of line. This guy of yours, though, I sense there is more to your story."

"He's no 'guy of mine' and yes, there's more to the story."

"Well?"

She considered him and then said, "We were at a conference in Houston and he followed me up to my room one night. I told him no, he took it as no, and I never had a problem like that with him again. Done deal. Or so I thought."

Dick quirked his eyebrows. "Sounds like he was out of line."

"Well, he was, that's true. I probably should have told HR straight away about what happened, but he was someone who had been there for years; his best friend was _his_ boss, and I just knew…it wouldn't be worth the fight. But the one thing I did do was tell a couple of colleagues about it, just warning them, you know, not to be alone with him. Some of the comments he'd made…were so crass and inappropriate, that it just seemed fair to warn people that he would say things they might not like. I know, I should have reported him for all of that, but I thought I could handle it. And when he followed me to my room, it was during a conference…we both had been drinking…I just didn't want to deal with it. And he never did anything like that to me again. So. I forgot about it. Until this one person I had told got fired and she started slinging accusations all over the place."

"Drama, drama, drama."

"Yes, exactly. One night he calls me, saying that she's sent this company-wide email detailing all the things that she says I've claimed that this guy's said and done. And he's freaking out, you know, like why wouldn't he? And I am just appalled that I've been dragged into this situation that I wanted nothing to do with in the first place. So then I started wishing for anonymity because it was a mess for a while. He eventually just resigned, and I was offered a better position at Kane, and so when I made the transition, I went there with the intention of keeping an air of anonymity. Nothing flashy or special about me." She touched the ends of her hair. "Except maybe a few minor things."

"Don't you miss it?"

"Miss being the mod at the office?" she asked with a laugh. "I should have made that transition way before then anyway. I mean, I am twenty-seven years old, Dick. An aged woman. Someone who shouldn't be running around in brightly colored cars and wearing black combat boots."

"Are you saying you're an old-maid?" Dick reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "If you're an old maid, take me with you. Neptune High can keep their unlearned women. Old age is hot on you."

"As on you," she admitted, holding his look. He stared at her and tilted his head, but before he could say anything more, she grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. "Now, show me this store of yours. If my brother ever meets you, his hero-worship is going to go up ten-fold with the fact you own both a Rubicon and this surf shop. Fair warning though that your 'hot boss' status will disappear if I find the sweat shop in the back."

"I keep that door securely locked during business hours. Hot boss status will stay intact."

***Break***

Driving back to his own place felt strange to Logan after being away for so long. The fact that his townhouse was still standing and also not swarming with cops was reassuring to him. As he'd driven through his neighborhood, it had seemed deserted but even that desolate feeling hadn't completely relieved him, so Logan had circled around the block twice just to ensure there weren't any unfamiliar vehicles parked alongside the streets or following him. He had been both eager and cautious when he'd finally typed in the code to his garage door and it had lifted open for him to drive in and park.

Though the townhouse was the place Logan called home, he rarely stayed there. Whenever he was not deployed or on base, Logan usually spent most of his time in Neptune with either Dick or Carrie. The truth was that he hadn't been 'home' for over a month. He'd been deployed for a few weeks before Carrie's death and then with the subsequent investigation, Logan hadn't even bothered to come here. But it always felt nice to be in his own space, even if it would only be for a few hours.

He let himself in through the door of the garage that led to the laundry room/mud room and flipped on the lights. He set the duffle bag he'd brought along with him on the washer and tiredly rifled through it, looking for his pain meds. Grabbing the bottle, he popped the top off and shook out three pills, swallowing them dry before replacing the lid and stuffing it back into the bag.

In the hallway, he glanced around curiously as he made his way to the kitchen. Though he didn't know for sure, Logan suspected Lamb had searched the townhouse illegally. Even the air inside felt violated, as if someone had been here recently, rooting through his things.

The door that led to the office was closed. He was sure he hadn't left the door shut last time he'd been here. He opened the door and flipped the lights on. His desk was littered with papers as if someone had dropped the stack of papers and strewn them across the desk haphazardly. He smiled to himself because he knew that there had been nothing to find. Nothing here would lead anyone to Carrie's house in Big Bear. Even within Carrie's personal papers there was no one savvy enough to find it. Logan knew that the house in Big Bear was more than safe from discovery.

Onto the kitchen he went where he found even more traces of invasion. A couple of the drawers had been pulled halfway out giving the impression that whoever had been there had been in a hurry.

Sighing, Logan made the rounds around the room, shutting the drawers one by one. Whoever had broken in must have done so when none of the neighbors were home, or maybe…he supposed it wouldn't be too surprising if the police had entered through the front door overtly. With all the negative media coverage, it would have been more than easy for Lamb to send any number of officers in here without suspicion. Everyone and anyone looking on would have assumed that there was a warrant involved.

Just as he was shutting the last of the drawers the doorbell rang.

Exhaling, Logan checked his watch. That was fast. _Show time._

***Break***

The office above Dick's store had a spectacular view of the ocean. Mac stood at the huge picture window and stared out at the vastness, adjusting the earpiece in her ear. Back in Vinnie Van Lowe's office, the investigator had just become engaged in yet another dynamic phone conversation. Grudgingly, Mac acknowledged that Dick had been correct when he'd pointed out that she should have bugged Vinnie's phone.

Time. Mac just had needed more time and she would have been able to plant bugs everywhere in that office, phones included.

Frustrated, she turned back to Dick's desk and picked up her tablet. She swiped through the screens to the bug's settings and checked the frequency. Not liking what she saw, Mac spun around and sat down, set the tablet aside and pulled her laptop out. The laptop's capabilities were far more superior to the little tablets, so she began click-clacking through the screens to find the settings to adjust the clarity of the audio.

Meanwhile, in her ear, Vinnie's voice had started booming, but the static of the connection made it difficult for Mac to clearly understand what he was saying. She was able to make out the words "warehouse" and "follow" and then a curt good-bye with the unmistakable click of the phone being replaced in the cradle.

"What's the ol' perv up to now?"

Mac jumped. Dick had snuck through the doorway without her noticing and was standing just above her. "Sheesh, sound a warning!"

Dick chuckled. "I thought you and I had a bond, Mackster. Like, you know where I am at all times, just like I know where you are at all times."

"That's called stalking, Dick. Plus I'm not tracking you; I'm tracking Logan. "

"Yeah, and where is the Golden Boy now?"

"He's at his place, warm and cozy," Mac informed him after a quick check. "Just as planned."

"God, I hope you and Ronnie know what you're doing."

"Me, too."

***Break***

When Logan looked out of the peephole, he wasn't sure if he was surprised or resigned. The whole idea of going to the Sherriff's Department today had been to smoke out a rat. However, the rat on the other side of the door wasn't exactly who Logan or even Veronica had counted on following him here. But still, Logan reasoned, it was a rat. After a moment, he flipped back the bolt, unchained the door, and swung it open.

Manny Rose stood on the stoop, his wide eyes full of what Logan could only describe as fear. Logan opened the door wider and looked past Manny's form and out onto the street. "You look lonely there on my…stoop." He looked back to Manny and said flatly, "What do you want?"

"Please, sir," Manny said in broken English, "I show you what you need."

Logan narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. "I wasn't aware I needed anything from you, thank you."

The black eyes skittered to and fro and then back to Logan's. "Please, sir."

Uncertain, Logan opened the door wider and stepped back. Hoping he wouldn't later regret it he said, "Come in."

Manny didn't need to be told twice. He quickly stepped across the threshold and Logan closed the door firmly behind him, not letting Manny out of his sight. Not feeling especially hospitable Logan stood motionless, watching Manny fidget with the ball cap he'd taken off, curling the brim of it tightly between his fingers.

Logan felt his irritation growing. "Look. What do you want?"

"You, you think that I know you," Manny stuttered suddenly in an urgent tone. "But, _senor_ , I do not. I do this thing to you not that I know you. I be paid. I be paid."

"And that's justification for what? For blowing my car up and shooting me?" Irritation was giving way to anger. Logan didn't know for certain if Manny Rose was responsible for doing those things but given everything that he'd uncovered with Veronica, he was pretty certain of it. "Morrison pulls your strings, and you just react, don't you?"

"No, no, no strings," Manny insisted. "I have no strings. You come. You come with me."

"Dream on, Guillermo. I'm not going anywhere with you."

Annoyance flitted over the Latino's face before he seemed to carefully school his features. "You no understand."

"Probably not but I don't really think I want to."

"No, s _enor, senor_ , you come with me and you understand," Manny nodded in triumph, as if the decision had been made. "You come now."

Logan stared at the man for a moment, growing more curious and feeling his will relent. Warily, he inquired, "Where are you going to take me?"

"To show you. What it is."

***Break***

The ringing phone broke the taut silence in the car. Veronica picked it up and swiped answer. "Talk to me."

Mac's urgent voice came through the line, "Veronica. We just heard Vinnie say someone, I don't know who, has been following Logan. They know he's home."

Veronica exhaled and looked over at Bunk as Mac continued.

"There's more." After a pause, Mac informed her, "Vinnie's going ape shit. Whoever is watching the house just watched Logan let Manny Rose in through the front door."

"Manny Rose?" Veronica mulled that news over. She'd expected Lamb. "Hmm. Well, we're only a block away from his place."

"That's good because Logan's car is moving."

Veronica felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. "Are you serious?"

* * *

A/N: Thanks again. Reviews are all welcome!


	19. Chapter 19 Down the Rabbit Hole

**A/N: Hi everyone! I hope you all had an exceptionally awesome Memorial Day Weekend! Thanks for the continued interest in this story...I know I've dragged it out over many months, and I apologize. Many factors and not very good excuses are making me glad for those of you who have stuck on. I hope you all enjoy!**

 **Thanks again to Bond. I know you had a lot on your plate as well while plugging through these chapter to Beta, and I am very grateful. Thanks!**

Chapter 19

Logan's resolve to stay at his house slipped when he realized that Manny Rose was genuinely scared. Manny's fear bred confidence in Logan's trust of the smaller man, and that was why he had found himself leading the other man through the hallway of the townhouse and out into the garage where the two of them piled into the still warm rental car.

It was now forty-five minutes later and they were near the outskirts of Neptune. Logan weaved around slow traffic, careful to keep just under the speed limit to not attract any unwanted attention. Although he was relatively sure that Lamb was probably keeping tabs on him as it was, Logan wanted there to be no excuse to be stopped for a traffic violation. He also kept the speed just under the limit to give Veronica time to catch up with him. He kept his eye on the rear view mirror, but not once did he catch sight of the Le Sabre behind him.

Veronica was either being extremely stealthy or else she wasn't behind them.

Manny motioned to take an exit. Logan signaled and moved over, exiting quickly before turning right when Manny signaled again. Though the sun had sunk low over the city, there was still the dusky hue of light across the sky, making it hard to make out street signs. Logan kept driving, glancing once in a while over at his passenger, waiting for some type of a signal that they were getting closer to their destination but the stout Mexican said nothing.

After driving another few miles, Manny indicated for Logan to turn into an alleyway. He obeyed and drove slowly until he came to a dead end and was unable go any further. Glancing at Manny for confirmation, Logan pulled behind a garbage receptacle and put the car into park.

He turned to his passenger. "Where the hell are we?"

"You see, _senor_. You come with me and you see now."

With that, Manny got out of the car and came around to the driver's side door to wait for Logan. With a heavy, unsure sigh, Logan pulled open his door and got out.

Manny started toward the building closest to them, looking back a number of times to be sure Logan was in fact behind him. The smaller man yanked open the heavy metal door and waited for Logan to pass through. With one last look back at the car and a quick twirl of the car keys in his hand before stuffing them into his pocket, Logan adjusted his jacket and stepped into a dimly lit stairwell.

To himself Logan muttered, "God, I hope V knows what she's doing."

***Break**

"I hope you know what you're doing, Veronica."

So did she. "Would you relax? Things are going to go great. We just have to adjust a little, but it will be fine. Besides, you helped concoct this crazy chess game alongside me. _And_ Logan volunteered."

"We both know why Logan volunteered, Veronica."

Veronica froze for a split second before saying smoothly, "Yes; to put an end to this. We didn't know if someone would take the bait, and thankfully someone did. Now we just wait and see. This will be over before you know it."

"Keep telling yourself that and everything will work out fine."

"You keep that in mind and everything _will_ be fine. Turn left up ahead."

Bunk did just that and they found themselves in an empty alleyway between two ramshackle buildings.

"Do you have any idea where the hell we are?" Bunk asked, slowing the car to a near crawl as he peered up at the buildings through the windshield. "It might be helpful."

"Actually…" Veronica trailed off. "I haven't lived in California for years. This isn't an area that I frequented when I lived here." She took her phone out and tapped 'send' after scrolling down to Mac's number. "I'll have Mac check it out."

***Break***

Mac smirked at Dick's startled jump when the phone that sat on the table between them began the loud chime of "Thunderstruck". She swept the phone up and pushed answer just as Dick began an air-guitar movement and yelled out, "Thund-aa!"

All seriousness, Mac said into the phone, "Hey, V."

"You have our coordinates, right?" Veronica asked immediately, skipping all pleasantries. "Can you tell me about the area we're at? For starters, who owns these buildings we're parked between?"

"Child's play, V. Gimme five minutes."

"Text it to me. And Mac?"

"Yeah, V?"

"Logan's in there. We're not waiting; we're going in. No phone calls. In or out. Till were done."

"Be careful."

***Break***

Manny pushed through the door on the third floor's landing and Logan, though reluctant, followed. The heavy door slammed shut behind them and Logan squinted through the darkness as his eyes adjusted to the light. All around them were cardboard boxes, lined in tall rows, veering off in random directions. There were no markings on any of them that Logan could see. "And you wanted to show me…a room full of boxes? I'm speechless."

The little Hispanic man ignored Logan's retort and began a steady pace down one the many rows of boxes. Logan pulled out his cell and checked its service. Four bars and no messages. Before slipping it back into his pocket, Logan tapped out a series of three numbers and pressed send. He then straightened the waist of his jacket, cleared his throat anxiously and started after Manny, peering at the boxes that he passed by.

"What the hell is this place?" Logan murmured to himself. He stopped to touch one the boxes, but just as he began to peel back the lid, Manny called out from somewhere in the depths of the room.

Alarmed that he could no longer see Manny, Logan forgot about the box and started down the row once again.

***Break***

"Why am I not surprised?"

"What ya got, V?" Bunk queried.

Veronica swiped her phone closed. "This property is for sale…." she gestured to the building on her left and then motioned to the one on their right. "And this property on the other side is owned by none other than Larry Morrison. How much ya want to bet that he's looking into buying this whole street, one building at a time, like a twisted game of Monopoly, with real money and everything?"

"Well, that news makes me seriously wonder just what Mr. Rose is showing off in there."

"Probably nothing good, that's for sure. Somehow I'm betting it isn't trade secrets on how to get rich quick."

"Pyramid schemes aren't generally up Logan's alley."

"Mostly because he's already filthy rich, right?"

Bunk snickered. "I suppose."

**Break***

The darkness was broken only by the slow flicker of halogen lights that ran above them. Logan felt blind in his rather vain attempt at following Manny primarily by sound and still he had not found him yet. He was becoming increasingly alarmed after having gone down two aisles of cardboard boxes without seeing even a trace of his guide.

Just as he rounded a corner of boxes, Logan saw the reason for the lack of sound. His heart stopped for a split-second before it thumped loudly in his ear, confirming the reality of the moment. He stumbled and then stopped and he quickly raised his hands.

Dan Lamb stood in the middle of the cardboard aisle, gun pointed at Manny Rose, a cold sneer on his face as he glared at Logan. Logan's mind started racing. Manny stood between himself and Lamb, wearing a look of fear. Beyond Lamb was bank of light switches on a wall beside what Logan assumed to be the door that led to the front of the building. Logan wondered if there was any way for him to get to that door. His attention was brought back to Lamb when the sheriff began speaking.

"You shouldn't have let _Senor_ Rose bring you here," Lamb said, his voice taunting. "You should have just told him ' _Adios'_ and moved along with your night, Mr. Echolls."

Forcing himself to look at Lamb and not at the door beyond him, Logan swallowed and replied, "What, and miss this experience?"

"Always the cocky son of a bitch; your reputation doesn't disappoint."

"What would you know about my reputation, Lamb? Except for the false one that you've been blasting around town?"

"You might want to be careful with what you say to me," Lamb warned, flicking the gun in Logan's direction before training it back on Manny's back. "Making an angry man more upset is not advisable."

Logan took a deep breath. "Look, can we talk about this without the gun?"

Instead of putting the gun down, Lamb took a step closer and pushed the muzzle into Manny Rose's back. "And this! This! I get you out of jams, Manny, and how do you repay me? Telling our secrets to this nobody! _Nobody_!" Lamb shouted the last word and his voice echoed throughout the warehouse, making the Mexican visibly flinch.

"Lamb, let him go," Logan entreated, putting his hands higher in the air. "He hasn't told me a thing. All three of us can walk away from this, no harm no foul. Honest to God, Sherriff, the man hasn't said anything."

"Then why are you here?"

"He hasn't told me anything," Logan repeated. He forced himself to keep his eyes locked on Lamb and not glance at the many boxes that filled the space around them. "And frankly, I don't need to know. Manny was just taking me for a nice quiet drive."

"It's too late to go back," Lamb said coldly. "And you both are trespassing."

With that a shot rang out. Manny Rose's face stilled. He stumbled forward and then fell into a heap between them.

"Jesus!" Logan yelled out, jumping away from the fallen man. "What the hell are you doing?" He stumbled back and hit into a row of boxes. "Why the hell did you do that?"

"You mean, why did _you_ do that?" Lamb sneered, now pointing the gun at Logan. "You just murdered a man!"

Logan barely heard Lamb's words because he was staring into the eyes of the dying man. There was nothing to be done for Manny; Logan could see that. The man was as good as dead. He tore his gaze away from Manny and looked back up to the distorted face that was Lamb's. "I what?"

Lamb affected a concerned face. "Yes, there was a disturbance, and I came to investigate…and walked in on this murder."

"You're insane."

"Maybe." Lamb nodded triumphantly. "But no one will believe you. Especially not if you're dead." Lamb motioned the gun threateningly at Logan. "Turn around," he ordered coldly.

Logan did as Lamb demanded; slowly turning around to face the boxes he'd just nearly turned over, his mind reeling as he tried to come to a decision. "What are you going to do, Lamb, shoot an unarmed man in the back? With the same gun that killed Manny? How's that gonna look to forensics?"

"You watch too much Law& Order, Echolls."

"I know a lot of the extras on CSI, I must admit. Dead Hooker #2 is my sister," Logan snarked blandly. "But that doesn't change the fact that forensics can figure this whole scenario out with their eyes closed."

The clicking of shoes on the concrete floor told Logan that Lamb had moved around Manny and was stepping closer to where Logan was. "Ah, yes, maybe, but the fact is I can plant this gun on you. And besides, I have another gun."

"Huh," Logan said, slowly slipping his good hand into the inside of his jacket and pulled the gun from out of the holster that he had hidden beneath. "Me, too." And then he swung around and pointed it at Lamb.

Lamb's eyes widened marginally but he recovered relatively quickly. "No matter, I've gotten around worse kinks."

"Somehow I believe you."

"Yeah, well, go ahead and try to shoot," Lamb taunted. "It would be better all round for me."

"Tell me one thing," Logan asked, not dropping his gun. "What exactly is this place?"

Lamb shrugged indifferently. "Storage, I guess."

"You guess?" Logan scoffed disbelievingly. "You just killed a man over a storage facility? You don't seem to need very much motivation for murder."

"Motivation? Motivation?" Lambs' voice pitched higher and higher. "You and your misplaced good deeds landed you here, you imbecile. Morrison hates you anyway. And with your name popping up all over the place, why not kill you? Might as well take you out with the rest of the trash."

They both had their guns trained on the other. Logan stared at Lamb's trigger finger. "So you admit that Morrison is involved?"

"Morrison is more than involved."

"Oh? Do tell." Keeping Lamb talking was the only thing Logan could do to keep the other man from pulling his trigger.

Lamb narrowed his eyes. "Why would I tell you anything?"

Logan needed to keep him talking. "Come on, Sheriff. If I'm going down, I'd at least like to know why."

"Because you're convenient." Lamb seemed to have had enough. Not dropping his aim, he switched hands, shuffling his feet into a firmer stance. "Drop your gun."

Logan only tightened his grip. "Yours first, Barney Fife. Can you even shoot straight?"

Lamb's gaze hardened and he motioned with the gun toward the slain Mexican. "I got what I was aiming for there."

"Why did you have to kill him?"

"Convenience, Echolls. Manny knew too much. He was becoming a liability. Getting skittish and fearful—we couldn't trust him. Look what he was doing with you tonight. But you know that already; he was your man. You hired him to take out Mars—"

"You're deluded," Logan interrupted angrily. "Why would I try to kill Keith Mars? And, besides, if I had put a hit out on him, explain to me why I would have sat in the hospital, waiting for him to regain consciousness? Why was I shot? Let me guess, I took a hit out on myself to take the heat off."

Lamb started again as if Logan hadn't interrupted. "You hired Manny to take out Mars, and in the process took out our fine Deputy Sacks, thus starting a chain of events that you couldn't control. You put the squeeze on Manny here. Nervous, the poor little man tried to take you out before you could have _him_ taken out, but Manny botched the job, twice. Tonight, you met him at an undisclosed location and you ended it, once and for all. But before you could make your getaway, I stepped in."

"What? Am I under arrest then? For your made up reasons?"

"No," Lamb simpered cruelly, making Logan's skin crawl. "Poor Mr. Echolls lost his life tonight, because he tried to take matters into his own hands, but I drew first. And saved the day. Neptune will have one less ass hole in about five minutes."

"You know I don't really live in Neptune anymore, right? So when the census comes out, my 'ass hole' status is represented in San Diego. Neptune won't even notice."

"Shut up!" Lamb stepped closer, all the while keeping the gun trained on Logan. "One would wonder why you haven't fired yet, Echolls. What's taking so long for you to defend yourself?"

"Because I really don't want to," Logan answered simply. "I am not a killer, and my conscience will not afford me to just out right shoot you, Lamb. Even when pressured."

"Not a killer? Says the Navy man—the airstrike pilot who has gone to war."

That struck a nerve, but Logan schooled his features when he countered, "That's different, and you know it, Lamb. How many men have you killed in the line of duty, Sheriff? And how many men, like tonight, have you murdered in cold blood? You shot Manny in the back. I would guarantee that your soul looks at that differently. How can you even sleep at night? If you kill me, that's just one more murder to add to what seems like to be quite the long list."

"Enough!" Lamb's eyes glinted in the harsh light and Logan thought he looked quite demented. "You just shut up!"

Though Logan was expecting it, it still startled him when Lamb dropped one hand from his weapon and lunged for him. Lamb grabbed at Logan's gun, but even with his injury, Logan was stronger and more agile than the other man. He easily batted Lamb's hand away. Suddenly, they were both on the ground and rolling around, grappling for each other's weapons. Fists were meeting jaws, and more than once, Logan saw stars, but he held on, landing a few good punches to Lamb's face. The satisfying grunt of Lamb's pain told Logan he'd hit his target many times. But then there was a sharp blow to Logan's injured shoulder and he recoiled back in agony, inhaling deeply in pain as Lamb successfully grabbed a gun and jumped up and away from him.

A quick glance told Logan that the other gun had slid too far away to be of any use. Panting from pain, Logan held his sore arm tightly to his body and lifted the other hand in the air, half kneeling on the dirty floor. "Would you shoot an unarmed man?"

"You already know that answer, don't you?"

A voice came from the depths of the shadows. "Shoot him, Lamb, and you're next."

In surprise, Lamb looked over to where the voice had come from: down the row of boxes toward the doorway where Manny had led Logan not twenty minutes before. Logan took advantage of Lamb's temporary distraction, catapulting himself up and into Lamb. Lamb fell hard into the boxes behind him, his arms swinging. He lost control of the gun, but not before he swung his arm up in defense of Logan's assault and hit Logan in the temple with the hard metal as they both landed in a heap. The gun flew up and away from them, and Logan, fighting for consciousness, lifted a fist and hit Lamb square in the face, once, twice, three times. Exhausted, Logan fell sideways and away from the now knocked out Lamb, heaving heavily to keep the sudden wave of nausea down.

"Logan!"

He heard Veronica's cry of alarm over his retching, but he couldn't respond because of how his body was betraying his weakness. He dry-heaved even as he felt her fingers touch his back, felt them running up his spine until he felt her fingertips rest on the back of his neck. He heard voices all around him, and he knew everyone was there, just as planned, but he couldn't decipher the words. All he could think about was the dead man lying less than ten feet away from him and the man he'd just beaten unconscious. From the distance, Logan thought he heard the whirring sound of approaching ambulances. He thought of how Lamb had been deadly serious in his intention to harm him, possibly kill him. And Logan had volunteered to do this. He retched again and then succumbed to the comfort of Veronica's arms as she held him tightly, her arms cradling his head with her lips near his ear, whispering things that he couldn't understand except for the one thing: it was over.

***BREAK***

Logan sat on the back ledge of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket, as the cascade of flashing lights from the various emergency vehicles bounce off of nearby windows while he watched Veronica and Bunk conversing with Deputy Norris Clayton. Logan felt hollow inside, empty almost. Nothing of the past three hours felt real. It was as if he'd been watching in third person, as if it he'd sat watching it in a movie theatre, not living it in full color.

There was a small niggling of worry that kept plaguing him, small but not insignificant. This was Dan Lamb who had just attempted to set Logan up for murder. Lamb's ties within the legal system were strong. What power did Lamb have even within the walls of a jail cell?

***BREAK***

Mac sat back in triumph and set her phone on the desk. "Great news."

"Did we get 'em?"

She glanced up at Dick, who stood over her, peering down at her laptop's screen. She grinned. "Well, as close to as 'get 'em' as we can get right now. Lamb's in custody."

Dick let out a whoop and clapped his hands together. "What about Morrison?"

"No Morrison," Mac informed him regretfully. "The guy didn't show. But it happened inside a building next to one he owns. One that's for sale."

"What does that mean?"

"Veronica's pretty sure that Morrison's plan was to buy up that block and sell it, like he's been doing everywhere else. Creating a monopoly of sorts."

"You think he wants to own the whole town?"

Mac shrugged. "Possibly. I don't know." She looked at the time displayed on her phone. "We need to leave if we want to meet them at the hospital."

"Hospital?"

She shook her head quickly. "I don't know specifics. Veronica said everyone's fine, but that Logan got a little beat up. I guess Lamb and he got into a slight fracas."

"A fracas, huh? If Lamb's in custody, then I'm betting Logan won that brawl."

***BREAK***

Veronica watched as Cliff McCormack, in his trademark cheap suit, broke through the crowd of blue-uniformed officers and made his way toward where she and Bunk stood with Norris Clayton. She flicked her gaze over to where Logan sat on the back end of an ambulance, wrapped in a blanket, staring vacantly out at the goings on vacantly. An EMT stood over him with a blood pressure cuff in her hand. She was speaking to Logan when his eyes connected with Veronica's.

For a brief moment, Veronica's breath caught and she tamped down the urge to run over to him. Instead, she gave him a tiny smile before turning her attention back to Cliff.

"Lamb isn't saying anything," Cliff informed the group, folding his arms across his body.

"Did we actually think he would?"

He grimaced. "No. They're taking him over to Neptune Memorial for a once over before they process him."

"But they are going to _book_ him?" Veronica pressed.

Norris grinned. "Thanks to Logan there's enough to book him on. His call to 911 was nothing short of brilliant."

She smiled back in relief. "That was all Logan."

Their attention was diverted for a moment as they turned to watch an EMT usher Logan into the back of the ambulance and shut the door behind him.

"We have so much more evidence against Lamb than he knows," Veronica said out loud. She knew that Lamb had played right into their hands. Though she hadn't been positive anything would work the way they'd discussed, they'd taken the risk and it had paid off. The only unexpected thing that had happened was that Logan's public statement had brought Manny Rose out of the woodwork right along with Lamb. She regretted his death. The public display outside of the sheriff's office had been meant to upset and rile Lamb, and possibly Morrison, so the fact that it had upset and prompted Manny Rose had been unexpected but not unwelcome. Logan had played it just right, almost too right. Manny had gotten spooked and had unwittingly brought the end to Lamb's reign.

Just then, the door that led to the building opened and two EMTs pushed out a blanketed gurney, obviously carrying Manny Rose's body. They wheeled it past where Veronica stood to a second waiting ambulance.

She turned back to the group. "Logan watched Lamb shoot and kill Manny Rose. The recording was left on while the 911 operator took the call. Will that ensure Lamb is held without bail?"

"Lamb knows all the ins and outs. He's beat the system for years. He's not going down without a fight, even with such incriminating evidence against him," Cliff answered.

"He's an idiot."

"The good news is that with the 911 call there's no disputing who pulled the trigger," Norris interjected. " But Logan's going to have to answer some tough questions, like how and where he got that gun he was carrying—"

"He has a carry permit," Cliff interrupted. "And the gun was lent to him by Ms. Mars."

"That's great news. The less we have to deal with regarding legalities and red tape, the better it will be for Logan. We don't want the case against Lamb to be held up by something as stupid as the lack of a carry permit."

"As far as all that is concerned, Logan is free and clear of that. Did we figure out what's inside this warehouse?" Bunk looked up at the building with a scowl. "Seems to me it must be something quite serious if Lamb had to kill to keep its secrets hidden."

Norris' satisfied smile heartened Veronica. "This is where all the missing evidence has been stored, amongst other things. For years Lamb has been confiscating and taking merchandise involved in other smuggling and illegal trade dealings and storing it here until he can either sell it or plant it. Manny Rose led Logan right to the end of the rainbow. It's all here."

Overcome with an intense feeling of foreboding, Veronica asked, "But what about tampering? This is Balboa County, after all…who's to say that all this evidence won't disappear by morning and Lamb will be free?"

"Because I'm here."

The voice was familiar, but Veronica didn't dare believe her ears until she turned around and saw Leo D'Amato approach from within the building. "Leo?"

"The one and only." His cute smile and twinkling eyes were just as Veronica remembered. "I'm a detective with the San Diego Police Department now. They sent us out when word got out that the sheriff was a suspect in a murder. We're taking over jurisdiction until other arrangements can be made. We'll make sure it's all kosher."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me," Veronica told him gratefully. "Just knowing you're on board is amazing!"

"What am I, chopped liver?" Norris gave Veronica a broad grin. "I'm joking, joking!" To Leo, Norris said, "Detective, I should warn you that the involvement of officers within the department is very widespread. You'll need to tread carefully."

Leo nodded. "Yeah, I figured that might be the case. I appreciate the heads up."

After a few more minutes of discussion, Bunk tapped Veronica's shoulder. "I think they're moving Logan to Neptune Memorial."

She nodded and then looked back at Leo. "What more do you need from us?"

"Just be available. We have a lot to sort out; but that 911 call will answer any immediate questions we may have, at least until tomorrow. We'll need you to make statements soon."

"Can you call Cliff? He's our acting attorney for the time being. He'll know how to contact us."

Arrangements made, Veronica and Bunk split from the group and made their way to their parked car. She watched the ambulance carrying Logan disappear from view. "I can't believe it's over."

***BREAK***

The hospital didn't feel as ominous as it had the last few times Veronica had been there. In fact, the bright light of the corridors seemed extra cheerful, and even the haggard looking nurses seemed to have an extra bounce to their step.

 _Hmm. Not cynical after all, huh, Veronica?_

The emergency room was short staffed tonight and the receptionist merely pointed Veronica in the direction where Logan was waiting to be seen by a physician. Bunk and Veronica immediately hurried down the hallway to a large room with many hanging curtains in lieu of walls separating beds. Weaving their way through the room, they found a testy Logan sitting back on a blue-blanketed bed. When he saw them, Logan sat up and adjusted his injured arm.

Veronica took stock of his features, which were bruised and a little bloody from his brawl with Lamb. She locked her gaze with his once she was assured that he was in fact all right and in one piece.

Back at the warehouse, she'd found Logan sprawled out on the floor, retching in agony from what she assumed must have been a heavy blow from Lamb. She and Bunk had missed most of the action, but she'd seen enough. By the time they'd wended their way down the corridor of cardboard boxes, the fighting was almost over. She'd seen the last of it and known that though Logan had won, Lamb hadn't gone down easily.

The irritability she'd just witnessed on Logan's face melted when he saw her and broke into an easy grin. "They just took Lamb to a private room. He almost broke the restraints trying to get to me."

"Oh?" Veronica queried, returning his smile.

"Yeah, he just found out about the 911 call." Logan chuckled. "I think he just realized how fucked he actually is." He winced and pulled his arm closer to his body. "These nurses are a delight."

"Are they?"

He nodded. "Their paperwork leave a lot to be desired." Veronica just now noticed a clipboard full of papers sitting on a stand next to the bed. "Instead of asking what hurts, they keep asking if I have insurance." He motioned to his eye, which had begun to swell and was turning a sickening shade of purplish-gray. "Who cares whether I can see out of this tomorrow. If I don't have insurance, they'll have to send me to General to get cleaned up with the other hobos."

Veronica picked up the clipboard and flipped through it. "I can fill it out; do you have your wallet? I can write down the information for you."

He reached in his back pocket and handed over his wallet. "Aw, you're a peach."

"Don't forget it."

Silently, Veronica filled out the forms and listened with a half-ear to Bunk and Logan's low-toned conversation. She thumbed through the multiple cards in Logan's wallet until she found his Naval Insurance card. She copied down the pertinent information while the two men started talking about Logan's townhouse. She stopped short when she heard the word 'deploy'.

She laid the pen down. "Are you getting deployed?"

Logan rolled his lips inward and took a large breath, avoiding her gaze. "I'm hoping with all this behind me, my C.O. will void my restriction and let me come back sooner than planned."

Teeming with obvious disapproval, Bunk folded his arms and gave Logan a hard stare. "Is that what you really want, son?"

Logan glanced between the two of them and then looked down at his hands. Veronica snuck a peek at Bunk, but the older man was still staring hard at Logan and didn't notice.

Logan shrugged, fidgeting. "I have to get back to normal."

"But you're injured!" Veronica argued. "Your arm has clearly been giving you trouble. Flying's not an option! There's no way—"

"They won't let me fly; I know that. But I can still be useful."

"Echo, the Navy doesn't like scandal. You're so embroiled in this mess, they're sure to never let you back on an aircraft carrier."

Logan seemed to deflate. "You can't know that."

"I'm telling you, son. They'll find a way to keep you grounded." Bunk gestured to Logan's shoulder. "First, they'll use your injury. Then there's the question of the trial."

"Trial?" Logan repeated, his eyes fixed on Bunk. "I guess I hadn't thought that far ahead."

There was a short silence between the three of them. Veronica resumed her writing when the curtain shuffled to reveal a doctor, who approached the side of the bed. "Mr. Echolls, I think that you'll be able to go home soon. We just need to finish up your paperwork and double check your vitals; once that's completed you'll be on your way."

"Yes, I assure you that I'll be properly billed," Logan retorted. "No need to be worried on that end."

Veronica handed the now completed papers over to Logan. "You just need to sign the bottom of the last page."

Logan took the clipboard and flipped through it. "One would think that since I was here less than a week ago, filling out this same mundane paperwork wouldn't be so critical."

"Information changes rather quickly," the doctor chirped, adjusting his stethoscope. "We can't guarantee the information you gave us last week is what you want us to keep on your records. "

"You just don't want to admit that you've violated HIPPA laws and lost my original records."

The doctor smiled placidly. "I don't share any information that isn't yours to know. Confidentiality is key in this business. Breathe in deeply."

After a few more questions, the doctor gently inspected Logan's wound before declaring him healthy enough to leave. "Let me just give your paperwork to admdissions and then you'll be free to leave."

**BREAK***

Mac and Dick were just rounding the corner when Bunk, Veronica, and a beat-up looking Logan exited the exam room. The two of them had come as quickly as they could from the other end of town without knowing for sure that they'd find their friends still at the hospital. Mac had not complained once at Dick's heavy foot and had instead kept an eye out for possible patrol cars.

"Yo, man, it's over!" Dick crowed now, quickening his pace and turning his stride to walk along with his friend. Mac smiled to herself when she saw him pat Logan's back a bit awkwardly in almost a half-hug. _Men._ "What are you going to do now that you've won?"

Logan retorted dryly, "I'm going to Disneyland. What are you going to do?"

"Man, I don't know. I'm gonna miss this gig. It gets the ladies _and_ it's fun."

They continued down the hall, through the waiting area and then out the sliding glass doors into the night.

"Ladies, plural?" Mac made a show of looking around her. "The ladies present you didn't 'get', and I don't see a swarm of swooning females at your feet, Master of Mystery."

"Give me time, sweetie. I'll have you swooning in no time."

Mac's face warmed and she was immeasurably grateful for the darkness of the night. "I like men swooning at _my_ feet, Dick, not the other way around."

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Where are you parked?" Veronica interrupted suddenly, and Mac looked guiltily at her friend. She had almost forgotten the others were there.

"Oh, not far. Just down this row about half way." She pointed out the Jeep. "We got your bag from Wallace and it's in the back of Dick's Jeep but…now that this is all over, do you even need it? You probably can go back to your dad's now."

The five of them stopped in front of the Le Sabre and Mac watched Veronica hesitate. She looked first at Bunk, whose expression she couldn't quite read, and then to Logan, who was staring somberly at Veronica. Dick stood beside her, abnormally quiet.

Finally, Veronica answered, "Yeah, I…guess this is over. I mean, we just cleared Logan of all wrongdoing. He's free to go back to the beach house, and I should probably go straight to the hospital in San Diego…" she trailed off, uncharacteristically indecisive.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope the all the buildup was worth the wait! Down hill slope now...only a few more chaps to go! As always, Reviews are seriously welcome and appreciated! Thanks again!**


	20. Chapter 20 Never Have I

**A/N: Hello everyone :) Happy days to everyone...enjoy! Thanks to Bond as always, even though it's been a long time, I still super appreciate your help and encouragement.  
**

* * *

 **NEVER HAVE I...**

Chapter 20

Now that the threat was over everyone could all go back to their regularly scheduled lives. Mac could return to work at Kane Software, Dick could resume whatever it was he did, Bunk could go home to Seattle, Logan back to the Navy, and Veronica….

Back to what?

Not New York. Never again. In her heart, Veronica knew that New York was just a memory now, something she would never return to. Not with Keith recuperating and now that Neptune had found its way back into her heart. It sickened her to even think of leaving. Her place was here.

The others all stood around her, waiting for her to come to a decision. She held the keys to the Le Sabre, jangling them back and forth in her hands as she mulled it over.

They'd all been planning to take at least one more day for this to wrap up. Logan looked exhausted. Mac and Dick had taken time off from work. Bunk's crew was at the cabin.

So…what was the harm?

"Let's meet at the cabin." She said it hurriedly, before she lost her nerve. "We've got to get Bunk back there anyway and it would just be nice to hang out without the cloud of uncertainty." She looked around at all her friend's identical looks of shock. "Come on. It could be fun?" She said the last with the lilt of a question, leaving it open ended for the others to refuse if they wanted.

The truth was that there was any number of ways for Bunk to get back to his men, including the rental which Logan had driven into Neptune. Although at the moment about fifty police cruisers in the alley where Logan had left it earlier were likely boxing it in, but besides that, Bunk had hired men who could come and get him. Veronica purposely didn't mention any of that. The truth for her was that she wasn't ready to say good-bye to any of these people yet. Including Dick.

She cast a furtive glance over at Dick and then Mac, who stood abnormally close to each other. The two of them seemed chatty tonight, even, dare she acknowledge it…flirty with each other.

Man, she must be tired. Not flirty. Just…friendly. Maybe all this reconnaissance had changed something between them. _Hmm._

"Are you sure you wouldn't like us to take you back to your dad?"

Logan's voice broke her through her thoughts. She immediately thought of her dad and how he'd looked earlier when she'd left him. She shook her head. "The doctor said the best thing for him was to rest. I'll go first thing in the morning. Tonight I just need to unwind. I think we all do. You, my friend, should probably pop some pain meds and head straight to bed."

Logan's expression was hidden by the darkness. She strolled past him, looked up to him briefly, and then headed to the driver's side of the Le Sabre. With a smile she said, "Last one there is a dirty bird."

****BREAK***

There was no rush in the drive to Carrie's house this time. There was no fear of being followed—no doubling back or second looks. Veronica and Mac drove together while the men followed in Dick's Jeep.

At the gate of the house, Bunk's men met them and cheered with the news that it was over.

But Veronica felt doubt.

Morrison hadn't been implicated yet, not really. Though Lamb had mentioned Morrison's name on the covert 911 call that Logan had made, Veronica knew that it wasn't enough. Unless Lamb cracked, Morrison would go on living his life by undoubtedly turning a blind eye to the whole debacle.

Once inside the house, Veronica took the bag that Wallace had packed for her and trudged up the stairs. She let herself into the guest room that she now considered hers. She dropped the bag heavily onto the bed, and stared vacantly down at it for a moment before she slowly unzipped it and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank top. She fingered the soft material of the shirt, her mind churning.

It was good to see something familiar, something that was hers. Exhaustion hadn't quite hit her yet, but she knew it was coming.

A knock from the open doorway shook her out of her reverie and she turned to see Mac, smiling softly, leaned against the jam. "Hey. Dick is insisting on a victory drink downstairs. You game?"

The thought of a drink actually was extremely appealing. Veronica set the pajamas down on the bed. "Yeah. Sure. Just one."

****BREAK***

Logan shut the fridge door and handed Dick a beer.

"Thanks, dude," Dick said, popping the top and taking a deep swig. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and belched. "After a day like this, I needed that."

"How was it like being followed all day?"

"We only saw the one car at the house, man. I don't think Mac and I are interesting enough."

"Good thing Van Lowe thought you were interesting enough. How did that go?"

"That guy's bogus, man."

They walked into the living room and sat down. Dick propped his feet up on the coffee table and spread himself out. "How's your face feeling?"

Gingerly, Logan touched his bruised cheek and grimaced at the pain. "Like my eye fell out and I stuffed it back in."

Dick's face contorted. "Shit, why'd you let Lamb get that close, man?"

"I don't think I had much control over it, _man."_ Logan kicked aside Dick's legs to go past him and sat down in an overstuffed chair. "When an insane lunatic wields a gun at you, you kind of just let him keep talking and go with whatever happens to keep yourself alive."

He took another deep pull from his beer and then leaned over to set it on the coffee table. "I feel like a fuckin' steam roller blasted through and ran me over."

"You look like a fuckin' steamroller ran you over," Dick agreed with a smirk. "What does the other guy look like?"

"Like he got dropped out of an airplane and then steam rolled," Veronica quipped as she and Mac came in through the doorway. She motioned at the guys' beer bottles. "Where's ours?"

Logan's eye connected with Veronica's and he felt his heart thud in his ear loudly. He blinked heavily, his breathing shallow.

After what must have been a long, pregnant pause, Dick popped to his feet. "At your service, ma'am. That's my department."

"Uh…I think I'll go with you." Mac followed Dick out of the room, leaving the other two alone and staring at one another.

***BREAK***

Veronica felt awkward and unsure of herself. She stepped further into the room and was surprised when Logan stood up and crossed the expanse of carpet to meet her half way. He looked down at her as she gazed up at him. She felt breathless when he reached up his hand to tuck a piece of her wayward hair behind her ear.

He smiled, and she couldn't help noticing how attractive he looked, even bruised. "Hey."

"Hey."

Logan dropped his hand and took a step backwards. "I have to admit that I'm surprised it all worked out all. I was a little worried there for a while."

Veronica gave him a reproving look. "What happened wasn't in the plan at all. You weren't supposed to go with him! But we adjusted, and I'm just so grateful Mac thought to have the rental tracked."

"I'm glad you insisted I take your dad's gun."

"That's the beauty of forethought I guess." She brightened. "You were amazing, by the way. Calling 911? Brilliant. The operator stayed on the line the entire time. How did you think to do that?"

"I read somewhere that 911 operators won't hang up on you until they know the caller is safe. I took a chance and hopefully it will pay off. Lamb said some pretty incriminating things that they ought to be able to use against him and Morrison."

She frowned. "It will at least prompt the investigation. I doubt Lamb will spill."

"Yeah…" Logan gazed at her and Veronica's breath caught.

She bit her lip. "I'm glad you're okay."

He nodded slowly. "Thanks for saving me."

Making small talk was useless. Veronica pitched herself forward and wrapped her arms around him. She tucked her head beneath his chin and pressed her ear against his chest. "I don't know what I would have done if we'd gotten there one minute later. You could have been shot! God, Logan, I don't know what I would have done!"

He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back lightly. "Hey, it's okay. Besides, I've already been shot this week and you were fine with that."

"Stop it," Veronica ordered, her voice muffled against his shirt. "I was not. Quit making jokes of your life."

Logan gently pulled her away from him so that he could look down at her. He cupped her chin in his hand. "Hey. It's heartening to hear you say you don't want me to drop dead."

"Logan." Veronica felt the threat of tears burning the backs of her eyes and she shut them, fiercely combating their emergence. "Oh, god, Logan."

She didn't care anymore what anyone thought. She didn't care anymore what _he_ thought. Logan was alive and Veronica was done fighting the truth that was within her.

Not taking any more time to think about it, Veronica stood up on her tip toes and tilted her lips up to meet his. She tasted his momentary surprise, but then his lips became pliant under hers and allowed her to make her way into his mouth with her tongue as her arms tightened up and around his neck. Her fingers threaded through the fine strands of his short hair and she pulled him closer into her and pulled herself closer into him. Logan's arms held her loosely, and Veronica had the sudden realization that maybe he was in pain and so she pulled herself reluctantly away from him.

She was nearly panting when she dared herself to finally look up at him. Her body felt flushed and she was sure he could probably see the desire that was coursing through her. Meeting his eyes, she laughed nervously and said, "Sorry."

"Where the hell did you go?" he growled, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. "I wasn't finished, you know." He dipped his head and met her lips again and this time it was Logan who pushed past her lips with a blistering kiss, his tongue kneading its way methodically into the recesses of her mouth. Veronica heard herself moan and she melted against him, forgetting her worry over his injury. Her body moved against his and she felt a familiar tug of longing that she only ever associated with Logan.

Logan trailed a kiss along her cheekbone to her ear. She cradled his head in her hands, reveling in his ministrations to her earlobe, sighing her approval. He kept his injured arm at his side, but his other was wrapped around her back, his fingers feathering into her hair lightly.

It felt so good and so right, but when she felt his hand drop lower to the edge of her shirt and then his warm fingertips on her skin, her mind cleared enough for her to breath. "Logan….Logan…we should stop."

"Mmm…" was his response, his lips against her throat. "Why?" But after a moment, his fingers dropped lower from Veronica's shirt to give a light tap on her rear end before his hands were off and he reluctantly stepped away from her.

She was pleased to see that she wasn't the only one breathing heavily. She smirked at his mussed look and the pulse at the base of his throat thumping wildly. His brown eyes were still searching hers when Mac and Dick returned from the kitchen with beer bottles in hand.

Mac handed one to Veronica and gave her a sideways look with raised eyebrows. "What have you two been chatting about?"

Veronica knew she looked guilty when she took a long pull from her beer. After a beat, she shrugged wordlessly and looked over to Logan for help. She shook her head with a smile when she saw that he had moved over to a side table and was flipping through a book of photographs, studiously ignoring the conversation. Amused at his nonchalance, Veronica brushed past him to flop herself down on an overstuffed chair and then took another swig of her beer.

"You know," Dick, oblivious to the exchange, said, "Being at ol' Neptune High stirred up all kinds of memories for me. Pirate points, basketball games, crashing slumber parties." He sat down on the couch and made himself comfortable. "There were many a slumber party I crashed, watching all those hotties in their barely-there short-shorts and teeny tanks playing truth or dare in the midst of a pillow fight. Ahh," he sighed, "those were the days."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Horny toad Dick."

He grinned broadly. "I never denied I enjoyed the view, did I? That's just not in me. Besides, I don't seem to remember you throwing very many pillows around."

Talking of being scantily-clad only reminded Veronica of being in Logan's arms just moments before. Veronica shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, hoping she didn't look as guilty as she felt. "No one wanted to see that, Dick."

From his post at the side table, Logan snorted.

She ignored him and said to Dick, "And don't even get me started on the Truth or Dare part of those evenings." Veronica smiled reminiscently. "However, there _was_ a variation of that we used to play…remember that Logan?" She slid a glance at Logan, seeing if he remembered. "Coming home hung over to the Kane's estate and getting glared at was always such a pleasure, but some of those secrets we got out of Lil and Duncan were sure worth it."

Finally, Logan turned around and joined the conversation. He stepped over Dick's feet that were now propped on the coffee table and sat heavily down next to his friend on the couch. He gave Veronica an intimate smile. "Never have I ever forgotten Lilly's look of glee at pissing her mom off like that." And he took a swig of his beer.

"Ah the 'Never Have I Ever' game of truths!" Dick hooted beside him, a spark of interest in his blue eyes. "Hell, we all have a bottle in our hands, what's stopping us having a little game of 'Never Have I' between good friends? Huh?" He looked around at the group and tipped his beer at each of them in a mock salute. "Come on! Just between friends! Just a little hurrah for making it through the past few days."

Neither Logan nor Veronica replied. Mac, who had been silently watching from a corner of the room, now sauntered over, and, giving Veronica a suspicious look, spun around and then sat down on the floor. "Dick," she said, resting her back against the chair Veronica sat in and crossing her legs. "No one wants to play a stupid game of truth or dare from high school with you. Look around. It's not eagerness you're seeing."

"Come on, Mac, you spoil sport! This is no lame game of truth or dare. I mean, really! Alcohol is involved. Everything is more fun with liquor! Why can't we have a little fun?"

"What secrets are there left to tell?" Veronica supplied in exasperation. "I mean, really, Dick, we're not eighteen anymore. Our lives are relatively boring compared to all our past life's teenage-ridden angst."

"Precisely my point, my dear!" Dick crowed, scooching himself more comfortably into the couch. "I mean, come on! Think of all that you could find out. There are nine years to catch up with! Come on! No holds barred!"

"Fine!" Veronica agreed with a sudden revelation and she sat up straight. "I'll go first. Never have I ever had a relationship with a lesbian." She cast a covert glance over at Logan.

Dick grinned and again tipped his beer toward her before bringing the bottle to his lips for a long pull. He gulped and said, "See, now how hard was that?"

Below her, Mac laughed. "Dick, you know that if you drink that means you've done that? Prove it."

"Well, hell, yeah, I have," Dick gloated. "There were these two girls once in college I didn't know knew each other until they proved me wrong by locking lips…and I was forced to watch through a locked sliding glass door! It was torture! I would have gladly been the cream filling to what I can only assume would have been a delicious Oreo sandwich. _Numero Uno,_ lesbian. _Numero dos,_ I call that a 'relationship'."

"Of course you do. And _that_ you brag about," Mac grumbled. "Why am I not surprised? You're off to a great start to this game. You'd better get more alcohol. You'll be drunk in no time."

Veronica quit paying attention Mac and Dick's banter because she was waiting for Logan's response. She knew what she had just done by starting this risky game of Never Have I Ever and judging by the rock sitting in the pit of her stomach, she was sure she maybe should have thought it through a little more. Here she and Logan had been on a path leading to…well, she didn't really have a definition of where they were headed. But if the heat in their last encounter was any indication, she may have just screwed up big time. Her heart was now pounding loudly in her ears as she waited on bated breath for Logan's reaction.

He stared down at his beer with hooded eyes. Veronica couldn't read anything of him until he slowly drew his eyes up and met her gaze head on. With a small, ironic looking smile and a raise of his eyebrows, Logan lifted the bottle to his lips and took a sip.

Their eyes stayed locked on one another's and Veronica sat back in her chair with a whoosh of air. She'd suspected the truth but hadn't dared believe it could be true. During her many searches online, Veronica had typed in Carrie Bishop's name when all other inspirations had failed her. Carrie's murder had been the top most hits on the Google search, but after scrolling down a bit, Veronica had eventually found a link to Carrie Bishop aka Bonnie DeVille's very own Wikipedia page.

The site contained typical Wikipedia information: early life, career, personal life, et al. Veronica had clicked immediately on 'personal life' and had found it to be lacking of any real information that she could glean from. According to Wikipedia, Carrie had come from a very devout, very large, very _traditional_ Catholic family. Carrie fell smack in the middle of a family of seven (strange that Veronica had no real recollection of Carrie's siblings while at Neptune High).When Carrie debuted herself as Bonnie DeVille, her parents had stayed out of the limelight but had still been a driving force in her life.

Much had been made in the Wikipedia article of the death of Carrie's good friend Susan Knight. Veronica knew of the recent revelation that Carrie had been involved in some type of cover-up in her friend's death, and it had ultimately destroyed her.

For the past few days, Veronica had wondered just how close the two friends had actually been. Suppose Carrie and Susan had been lovers, and then Susan had died in a drug-induced hazed, which Carrie had then helped to cover-up. Mourning, Carrie began writing and releasing music, suddenly gaining fame. Not wanting to be put in the paparazzi's camera lens, Carrie had enlisted the help of her friend Logan Echolls, who had his own reasons to hate the media, to one-up the paparazzo and deceive the world in the cleverest of ways. And along the way, the connection to Logan kept Carrie's own parents content that their daughter was in a healthy, happy, _traditional_ relationship, regardless of the state of her drug and alcohol problems.

Veronica barely noticed how Mac and Dick were still bantering back and forth as she kept her eyes locked on Logan, lost in thought. Her heart was still pounding absurdly and her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips nervously and Logan's eyes zeroed in on her mouth. In that moment, Logan had never looked sexier to her. He looked relaxed, wearing a button up shirt and jeans that were faded in just the right spots, his hair still mussed from her fingers. His eyes were dilated and his lips were swollen from their recent kisses, and she wondered what her own mouth might look like in this moment. She wouldn't be surprised if her need was stamped across her forehead for the entire world to see.

"All right, all right…whose turn is it next?" Dick said loudly, breaking into Veronica's thoughts.

She broke the spell that had been cast between herself and Logan to address Dick by stupidly saying, "What?"

Dick looked at her like she was a moron. "Who gets to go next?"

"I'll go," Logan volunteered, raising his bottle and taking yet another drink. "Never have I ever…" he stopped, thinking, and then grinned over at Dick, "been married for less than twenty-four hours."

"Harsh, man! Harsh!" Dick took a chug and the women gasped incredulously. "Telling all my secrets."

Logan shrugged. "You started it. I think that means you ought to pay for it more than the rest of us."

Dick glowered. "Yeah, well, maybe I need a break once in a while."

"It's only beer," Logan reasoned.

"Yeah but it's no fun all alone," Dick whined. "My turn."

"No, no, no," Mac objected. "Veronica went first, Logan next. My turn."

"And by what hare-brained logic reasoning says it's your turn?"

Mac smirked at him. "Because it's my turn, so just cool your jets already." She sat up straighter from her position on the floor and cleared her throat. "Never have I ever…been put into the back of a police cruiser."

"Ah, seriously, come on!" Dick chortled with a glower and took a chug along with Veronica and Logan. He swiped a hand over his mouth and then said, "Now it's _my_ turn." He smiled and looked at each of them in turn. "Hmmm, what should I say? Never have I ever…smuggled something over the border."

Logan chugged.

"Okay, okay," Veronica said over their laughter. "I'm next. Let's see….never have I ever… streaked."

Dick glowered and took a swallow.

Logan didn't even wait for Dick to lower the bottle before he said, "Never have I ever believed in the Berenstain Bear conspiracy theory."

"That shit is real, man!" Dick took another gulp and then looked down the neck of the bottle with one eye. "Shit, I'm already out of beer."

***BREAK***

"What the hell is the Berenstain Bear conspiracy?" Mac asked, passing a freshly opened beer over to Logan to hand to Dick.

As he took it from her, Logan explained, "Do you remember the Berenstain Bears?" At her nod he asked, "How do you spell Berenstain?"

"Uh…B..E..R…E..N…S…T...E…I..N."

Beside Logan, Dick nodded emphatically and poked Logan with his elbow. "Further proof, my man."

"Proof of what?" Veronica asked, obviously holding back laughter.

"Well," Logan gave Dick a look and then turned back to look at the women. "There is a small population who believe that they've found proof of time travel all based off of the spelling or misspelling of the Berenstain Bear books. Apparently, half of our generation remembers the spelling of the name how you just spelled it, Mac, and the other remembers S-T-A-I-N."

Mac was unimpressed. "So?"

"So, how sure are you that it's S-T-E-I-N?"

"One hundred percent sure." Mac said with conviction. "I loved those books growing up and remember wishing that it was S-T-A-I-N because then I'd know how to say the last name."

"And _boom_ goes the dynamite!" Dick said animatedly. Seeing her odd look, he shrugged. "You're proving the theory right now. Go back and look at every Berenstain Book you've ever read and check it out. They're all S-T-A-I-N."

She didn't believe him. "That's not true."

"Well, I'm not gonna argue with you, but the fact of the matter is you're wrong. Or maybe you're right. Either way, me and my fellow Berensteinites know this can mean only one thing: someone went back into time and changed history."

Both Veronica and Mac exploded with laughter. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"Maybe, but you also sounded pretty convinced of the spelling of the name."

Mac shook her head. "All right. I believe you. My turn. Never have I ever believed in time travel."

Dick popped the top off of his newly acquired beer and took a swig. "And proud of it, baby. We're living in a parallel universe."

"Believe me, Dick," Veronica said. "If that were true, everything about my life would be different."

Dick ignored her comment. "Now it's my turn. No more of this silly arguing back and forth. And I'm done being the lone drinker."

"You're not the lone drinker," Logan supplied with grin.

"Oh, right, you and Ronnie have gotten in like one sip in each. And Mac-a-roonie over there is sober as a school girl."

"I just don't have anything to top all this," she waved her hands around the room. "It's more fun being the witness to all of your debauchery."

In fact, Mac had been having fun, but mostly it was the flirty back and forth volleying between her and Dick that had been the most enjoyable.

"Hmm, well, we'll get a secret out of you yet," Dick promised with a wink. "You're looking awfully thirsty."

She laughed and took a drink. "Lack of secrets has yet to stop me from my tasty beverage."

"Well that's good, I'd hate for you to get dehydrated."

They shared a secret little smile that was broken when Veronica cleared her throat and Mac realized that many moments must have passed by. Embarrassed, Mac took another sip of her beer. "Okay, Dick, pick a good one."

"Oooh, get ready. Hmm…" He caught her eye and cocked his head to the side, thoughtful. "Never have I ever….had sex with someone in this room."

Mac froze at attention and felt her eyes bug out of her sockets. Her heart began beating heavily and there was definitely a bead of sweat suddenly trickling down her back.

This was the moment. This was it. The way that Dick was looking at her told her that he remembered they'd slept together and was testing her reaction.

And reacting she was. Behind her, she heard Veronica's awkward laugh, and next to Dick, Logan was already chugging his beer. Neither of them seemed to notice the frozen stare between her and Dick.

She caught her breath, trapped with indecision. Dick, on the other hand, bounced his eyebrows up and down a few times before tipping his beer toward her and drawing it to his mouth in a silent question, taking a long pull. What harm would it do now? she reasoned within herself. He obviously remembered what had transpired between them all those years ago. Her denying it now would only tell Dick that she didn't _choose_ to admit that it had happened.

She flashed through all of the events of the past few days. Dick meeting her at her apartment, the reunion, the 09er, Santa Anita. The long drive to and from the cabin today. So much had happened between them in such a short amount of time.

But she'd enjoyed it all. Not even grudgingly, she admitted to herself. She'd even kind of looked forward to some of it. Okay, _all_ of it. Mac liked being around Dick.

It was like a therapy session, Mac thought ironically. The pros and cons of why to admit that she remembered sleeping with Dick vividly and in full Technicolor. Although she could only think of the reasons to admit it. Yes, Dick Casablancas was fun to be around. He made her pulse quicken. She already knew what he was like it bed. Terrific. Outstanding in his field of expertise. And expert he was because even after all these years later, she still remembered how it had been. Her heartbeat accelerated as she thought about how it would be now. There was no doubt he'd only mastered his skill.

All this flitted through Mac's head in a matter of seconds before she gave in and took a long pull from her beer, her eyes locked on Dick's. His blink of acknowledgment was all he gave her, but it was enough. Something changed between them in that moment, a live spark of electrical undercurrent that hummed between them now that only they were aware of.

Why had she fought this for so long? The light-weighted feeling of absolute _freedom_ was coursing through her, an excitement of mutual acceptance of the unknown future between them. But it didn't alarm or scare her. Instead, it was as though anything was possible now, because there was Dick. The secret little smile he gave her now only assured her more fully. She was more certain than anything in the world that what she was feeling he was feeling as well. It was the strangest sensation but Mac knew it intuitively.

"Okay, okay, my turn," Veronica interrupted Mac's thoughts. Mac looked guiltily up to her friend, who was shaking her head and looking reprovingly at Dick. "That was just a sorry excuse for a 'Never Have I'. We all know the answer to that."

Mac held back a smirk when Dick's Adam's apple bobbed up and down and he said, "Yeah, just a gimme. I think I should go again since that was such a no-brainer."

"Oh, no." Veronica pushed back her sleeves and sat forward. "Gimme's still count, and it's _my_ turn. You snooze, you lose, dude."

They went around the room a few more times, each person getting a little more humorous with their suggestions until it was finally Logan who put an end to their fun. After Dick had taken a deep pull for "Never have I ever kissed a transvestite", Logan stood up set his beer down on the coffee table. "I think this should be my limit. Booze and meds don't mix."

"Nah, man, booze and meds l is the only way to go, man. You won't remember anything in the morning."

"That's precisely why I should stop, Dick. I think I may need to remember this night."

In the chair behind Mac, Veronica moved around her and stood up. "Yeah, I think I may need to turn in myself. Long day tomorrow."

And with that, Dick and Mac found themselves alone.

 **A/N: I had fun with this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Have a great weekend, and if you have a minute, a Review is always welcome. Thanks for reading!**


	21. Chapter 21 Nightcap

**AN: This is my**

Mac watched Veronica disappear down the hallway before she turned back look at Dick, who was still sitting on the couch. He was staring down at her with a smirk on his face, his beer loose in his hands.

She glowered at him comically. "You look like the cat who ate the canary."

His grin widened. "And might I say that canary was delicious."

Deciding she was at a disadvantage sitting on the floor, Mac set her empty beer bottle on the coffee table and climbed up onto the overstuffed chair to face him. She settled herself into the cushions, all the time supremely aware of his blue eyes piercing into her.

When she finally met his gaze, Dick said, "Why didn't you stay that night? Was it so bad?"

She choked. "What?"

It was odd to see Dick looking so vulnerable. His expression softened and he repeated, "Was it so bad?"

"No," the word came out strangled. "Don't say that."

"Well, what am I supposed to think? I've spent the past eight years thinking that it was a fuckin' dream, Mac…that I'd hallucinated the whole night. I mean…God, Mac, I would have given anything to know for sure that it was real."

"So you didn't know for sure?"

He leaned forward and set his beer next to hers, turning each of them so that the labels faced the same way. He ran a hand through his hair and then blew out a breath.

She tore her eyes from the bottles to look at him. "You're stalling, Dick."

"I always wondered," he admitted quietly, finally looking over at her. "But I couldn't settle it as truth because you never acknowledged it."

"When would I have acknowledged it to you, Dick? I haven't seen you in years, and what was I supposed to do? When you came to my apartment, should I have opened the door and started with, 'Hey, Dick, I haven't seen you since we fucked'?"

He looked angry. "That wasn't fucking to me, Mac, and hell if it was to you."

She had no idea what compelled her to do it, but she said, "What do you know, you didn't even remember it."

"Oh-ho, I remember it plenty, and now that I know it wasn't a figment of my imagination, I'm thinking it was just as good as I've always thought it was. What I can't figure out is why you've pretended it never happened?"

"I never pretended it never happened!" she objected, but he cut her off.

"No, Mac, I don't know…if you would have just stayed that night…if we would have woken up together, I don't know what would have happened, but I think it could have been a good thing."

"Like a weekend in bed?" Mac scoffed.

"Well, yeah, for sure as hell that. Probably a few good weekends like that, but _more_ than that. Don't you see?"

"You would have thrown me away with the first whiff of the right blonde walking by; you can't even deny it."

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Assume that I would do something with absolutely no proof of how I would act."

"I think I had plenty of proof—high school and beyond, Dick. I pretty much lived at your house senior year. It was no secret—"

"I was with Madison most of that year, and besides, what would you know of my fidelity?"

Mac blinked at the mention of Madison. She picked at her knee uncomfortably. Finally she conceded, "You're right, Dick. I know nothing of your fidelity back then."

He nodded with satisfaction. "That's more like it."

"But you can't blame me for assuming I was nothing more than a notch in your belt."

"You took away the satisfaction of any notch making by running off like that." He looked at her reflectively. "Maybe I was the notch in yours."

She felt her mouth hang open in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"Well I'm just making a point here, Mac. You've always known that it happened; I've always wondered if it happened. Lording things over people might just be your forte. You got yourself a piece of the Dickster and had a good laugh."

"You say that as if I took advantage of the situation."

"Let me assure you, you can't rape the willing," Dick told her with a wicked smirk. "And I know what happened. You were in my bed. Why else would you have been there, if not to use it to your advantage?"

"I didn't even know it was your bed at the time, Dick! I lay down that night because I didn't have a ride back to campus and the party was going full-force; I wasn't feeling well—"

"Oh, so now you're telling me that _I_ took advantage?"

"No, I'm just explaining. It never should have happened. I was mortified when I woke up; I knew I would just be a trophy to you, and I had to get out of there."

"First of all, you could never be 'just a trophy to me'." Dick edged further off the couch and nearer to her. "Please believe me. I woke up that morning, searching for you. There was no trace of you; and I just talked myself into believing that I'd dreamed it all up. It wouldn't have been the first time."

She blinked.

"But then this week, when we danced at the 09er, there was something there. I know there was. I saw it on your face. And yesterday, at the tracks. I knew right then it hadn't been a dream. It was all too real, and you kept it from me for eight years!"

"I had no idea that you even cared."

"I've been reliving that dream—that _night_ —for years, Mac."

***BREAK***

Hanging out down in the living room with the others had been fun but now Veronica was ready to talk to Logan without an audience. She silently followed him through the hallway and up the stairs, deep in thought. Finally she was ready to talk to him rationally and ask him all the things that she'd been too scared to ask in a nice way before. She didn't want to demand him for answers any more. Rather, she wanted to have a regular conversation with him about everything she yearned to know. And now she was more certain than ever that Logan was ready to tell it to her.

The two of them had been building back the trust between one another since they'd been stuck together in this house. Actually, it had started out earlier, even from that first moment they'd shared at the beach house when Veronica had come to thank Logan for saving her father's life. She recalled his brown eyes that morning; so soft and understanding. The way he'd looked at her had twisted her gut so familiarly and at the time she'd tried to ignore its implications. But now it just felt like the inevitable, this thing that was happening between them. It had always been happening between them, she admitted now, only time and distance had gotten in the way of it for a while.

It had taken nine years for Veronica to get past denial where Logan was concerned, but denial was no longer an option for her. Whatever may happen from this point on, Veronica knew she was Logan's, whether he would have her or not. Oh, and how she hoped he would have her. Their intense stares, intense arguments, intense _everything_ lately had not only bewildered her but had excited her. The flash of passionate anger in Logan's eyes during their recent arguments reminded her of how things used to be and honestly, it thrilled her in a strange way. In the past, Logan's anger only betrayed his true love for her because in those moments of anger was when he had been extremely worried for her safety. Their arguments over the past few days had been reminiscent of when they'd argued in their past life. There was a small flair of hope within her that this was evidence of his continued love for her.

Love. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time to think of it. Not once had Veronica ever uttered those words to Logan, but she wasn't scared of that word anymore. Love. She loved this man. She loved Logan.

But…did he love her back?

She cast a furtive up at him as he walked ahead of her, almost to the top of the stairs now, wondering what he was thinking. Of course he cared for her, Veronica now knew without a doubt. His revelation about Carrie just now in the living room was proof that he cared enough to tell her the truth. And the truth to that revelation was more than that Carrie had been a lesbian. It was that with this revelation Veronica knew now Logan trusted her enough to tell her the truth. But was it just a nod to their past, that he'd extended this olive branch, or could it be something more?

By his slow movements, Veronica could tell just how sore Logan actually was. The fight between him and Lamb had not been an easy brawl by any means. When Veronica had come upon the two of them, Logan had just landed a final blow across Lamb's face and before succumbing to oblivion. She'd rushed to him, kicking the two guns out of reach as she did so, and cradled his head in her arms as she'd taken stock of his injuries.

Thankfully, the injuries had been minimal considering the fight that had taken place. There had mostly just been scrapes across his face and mild evidence of bruises. At the hospital, dark bluish, purple bruising had begun to bloom just under his right eye. And now, climbing the stairs behind him, she'd only just noticed a jagged scrape behind one ear and scratches down the back of his neck.

Logan reached his room and opened the door before turning back to look at her. Without thought, Veronica followed him, passing her room to stand before him, silent, anxious for him to invite her in.

He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows, his brown eyes piercing hers. "Come in?"

***BREAK***

"You sound like a romantic, Dick," Mac told him in exasperation. "No one's fooled by your act."

Dick stood up and started pacing, running his hands through his hair in jerky motions, clearly agitated. "Just because I've always been a fuck-up, Mac, doesn't mean I don't have a heart."

"I know you have a heart, Dick; I just meant that you're not a _romantic._ "

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"No, not in the slightest. You're the kind of guy that likes trucks and surfing; _manly things_. I don't know—I just don't see you yearning for the mushy things in life. You like sex and things that you can conquer."

"So what if I like all that?" He gave her a bemused look. "Doesn't everyone like sex?"

"Well, usually, yeah, but that's the point. Admitting we had sex was like admitting you got a piece of me."

He shook his head and laughed quietly. "You have no idea."

"No idea about what, Dick?"

He sat on the edge of the coffee table so that they were face to face. Seriously, he said, "You and I." When she waited, he continued, "Can't we have a chance to see? Forget the fuckin' past, Mac. Can't we start right now?"

He looked so earnest that Mac leaned forward and took hold of his hands. "What do you want to start?"

"Something real, Mac. Something for the books."

She smiled and squeezed his fingers. "You don't have to say that to get laid, Dick."

It didn't take long before Dick bobbed his eyebrows excitedly. "So you're saying…?"

"I've had enough talking."

Mac stood, pulling him up with her. She tipped up onto her toes, humored at his height but determined nonetheless. She pressed a kiss on his chin, which was as far as she could reach without him leaning down into her. "I wouldn't have admitted tonight that I'd slept with you if I didn't want a repeat, Dick. Let's see where this takes us."

***BREAK***

Logan didn't have to wait long for Veronica's decision. She gave him a small smile and passed by him, entering his room purposefully, swinging back around and waiting for him to shut the door.

His heart thudded loudly in his ear when his eyes connected with hers. Everything tonight had been leading up to this moment. There was something different in the way she was looking at him now although he would be lying if he didn't admit he had some reservations.

She smiled as she looked around the room and then back at him, looking abnormally nervous. "Tomorrow's gonna be a big day I guess."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, I guess. Today was long enough as it was. I can't even think about tomorrow."

"Are you going to get in touch with your CO?"

Her voice was small and Logan picked up on it right away. He ducked his head slightly to catch her eye. "Probably. Yeah. I need to make sure they know all this bullshit was just bullshit."

She dropped their eye contact and said softly, "And then you'll be deployed."

He stared at her for a moment before he turned back to the door and locked it. He let his hand linger on the knob before slowly rotating back to look at Veronica, who had swung around to stare out the window. "No. No, Veronica, you heard Bunk at the hospital. They're not going to let me do much right away; I've created too much scandal in the past few days for them to even think about letting me on base, let alone on the carrier. There's going to be red tape and hoops to jump through. But I've got to try. It's…my life."

She folded her arms across herself. "Your life, huh? You must love it then."

He shrugged noncommittally even though she wasn't watching. "Not much else in this world that I do."

She swung around and shot him an appraising look before turning her attention back to the window. "Do you ever wonder 'what if' Logan?"

"'What if' what?"

"What if…what if I had stayed in Neptune, what if…Lilly wouldn't have been killed, what if…"

"That's a lot of 'what ifs', Veronica. I don't like that kind of game; it sucks me into a realm of possibility that isn't mine to live." He gave a small smile and shrugged humorously. "Unless of course, I'm Dick and I find myself a time traveler."

She ignored his quip. "Why were you with Carrie, Logan, if she never loved you?"

The question wasn't demanding; in fact, Veronica's tone was kind; almost sympathetic. Detecting no cynicism in her curiosity, Logan answered, "We loved each other, Veronica. Just in a way that no one understood." At her silence, he continued, "Carrie loved Susan, but I guess you probably already figured that out." The back of her head bobbed in acknowledgement. "I never wanted to take Susan's place; Carrie never wanted that either. There was never an expectation of that kind of love. We just needed each other for different reasons than for why most people are together. But I don't want to talk about Carrie." He paused and then said, "If you want to play the game, Veronica, let's play it. What if you would have stayed?"

Her shoulders tensed. He worried for a moment that maybe he shouldn't be pressuring her, but enough of that. Veronica had been the one to bring it up, after all, so he waited.

After what seemed like an eternity, Veronica turned around. Her eyes were moist, as if she'd been holding back tears, and her cheeks were ruddy. She bit her lip. "If I would have stayed, I don't know…it would all be different."

"Different, how?"

"This," she gestured between them. "Us. It would all be different."

Their eyes met and Logan felt a familiar pull deep within him. _This is dangerous,_ his mind suddenly was screaming. He sucked in a breath and he closed his eyes. "Don't."

"Don't, what?"

"Don't say something you don't completely mean. I thought I could handle it, this…whatever this is. I thought, you know, I could handle whatever you said to me tonight because I want so badly to hear it. I've wanted this conversation for so long, and now that it's here, I just don't know if I really want it. I want to say that you can tell me anything; that you can just, you know, just lie to me, make me believe you in this time and place. Just for right now. But I can't say that. Because..." he opened his eyes and drank in the sight of her, her beautiful wide blue eyes staring up at him and her creamy complexion; everything about her was what he wanted in this moment. "I've missed you so much Veronica; it's ridiculous how much I've missed you. All those candy-coated girls, the imaginary Hollywood-Barbie types that have always flocked around me; the ones that want more than to be seen on my arm, they've never meant anything, not ever. You never used to care about that part of my life and I...loved you for it. With Carrie it was easy because it was our game against the world. But all those other women; they were nothing. They _are_ nothing because it was always _you_. You've always felt like the real thing to me; you've always been the best thing in my life. No one even compares to what you were to me. And right now, I thought I was ready to hear your lies and your lines; whatever it is you're going to say to me...but I just can't. I don't want to hear anything you have to say if it's just for this moment. If it's not the truth then it's really not worth it to me."

She stepped away from the window to look up at him. "I don't want to lie to you."

"Then let's make no promises, Veronica. I already know what you can do to me with your empty promises."

"But if I told you—"

"I can't hear it right now."

She shook her head. "I don't have empty promises to give you, Logan, just truths. I don't know what the future holds for me, but I do know that I want it to be with you."

"You don't have to tell me that," he groaned, running a hand raggedly through his hair. "This doesn't have to be a forever kind of thing."

She smiled and stepped even closer to him. She surprised him when she raised a hand up to cup his face gently. "Logan, if anything, this week has taught me that some things are inevitable, and for me, what's inevitable is you. Life has thrown me curve ball after curve ball, and it's come full circle back to Neptune and back to you. You just said that I've always felt like the real thing to you; well, you're the real thing to me. I want _you._ " She said the last emphatically and he stared at her. "I love you. I can't imagine what will happen if I walked away again. I refuse to be the one to do that. It's not in me anymore. Damn the consequences and whether it's the right thing to do. To me, this is a forever kind of thing." With that, Veronica tipped up and pressed her mouth to his.

The touch of her lips on his ignited him. He wrapped his uninjured arm around her back and drew her up into him, moving to better kiss her. He delved into the sweetness of her mouth, dipping and tugging and then pulling at her tongue, reveling in the soft mewling that emitted from her throat. His fingers tugged at the tips of her blonde hair, threading through the locks lightly. He growled with satisfaction when she wrapped her arms around him and her fingers traced over his ears and jawbone. Her thumbs lightly skimmed the bruises on his cheeks as she broke their kiss and brought her lips up to trace a line of kisses along his bruised cheekbone. Logan kneaded his fingers up the back of her neck, rhythmically pressing the pads of his fingers into her hairline. She arched against him and threw back her head, giving Logan the opportunity to drop his attention to the smooth creaminess of her throat. He dipped his head and planted a kiss at the base of her throat, loving the sound of her jagged breathing in his ear. She tightened her hold on him, her fingers threading through his hair, pulling at the ends as she drew him closer to her.

Their bodies moved together, both impatient for more. He edged them over to the foot of his bed, breaking their contact to sit down on the edge of the mattress. He looked up at her, and she straddled him, bending her knees so that she was kneeling over him, and he continued kissing her, running his hands down her rib cage, his fingers lightly brushing the tips of her breasts. Logan poured his emotion out in his touch, caressing Veronica with his mouth and fingertips, loving the way her body responded to him. He turned their bodies so that he could lay her down beneath him. For a moment, he looked down at her and then rolled off of her to lie beside her, on his side. Together they stilled, their breathing heavy, eyes locked on one another.

Veronica feathered a touch along his jawline and then tipped her mouth up to his and lightly kissed him. When she pulled away, he reached up to weave his fingers through hers. "You didn't have to say that, Veronica. You don't have to tell me anything."

"I wanted to," she insisted quietly, "I _need_ to. You've done so much for me. You saved Dad's life—"

"I've already told you, anyone would have done that."

"Just let me say this." Veronica swallowed, looking deeply into his eyes. "You kept me safe. You went into the wolf's den today, voluntarily, and readily went with Manny to that warehouse. Why would you do that?"

He smiled softly and studied her. "You know why."

"I _think_ I know why."

"You know why," he repeated, and then placed a kiss on her forehead. "Everything I've ever done has been for you."

**BREAK**

Her heart swelled at Logan's words. Veronica ran a hand along the length of his torso and rested it on his hip, suddenly feeling shy. Cautiously, she traced the hem of Logan's shirt, carefully dipping up and under the edge of it to touch the smooth skin of his belly.

He shuddered at her touch and fell back against the pillow. Encouraged, Veronica rose up on an elbow and continued to touch him, before moving to straddle him. Careful to not jar his body unnecessarily, she slowly unbuttoned Logan's shirt and splayed it open and then bent down to place a kiss just below the bandage at his shoulder, right above his heart.

She felt his hands on her hips and Veronica ground down against him when she felt the hardness of him beneath her. Sitting up, Veronica shed her shirt and threw it off of her, quickly bending back down to capture his mouth again, feeling urgent. Logan's fingers skimmed up her back to her bra to unclasp it and then guided the straps down her shoulders as their kisses became more intense. Veronica lifted up long enough to throw the bra over to where her shirt now lay on the floor.

She then helped Logan out of his shirt, laughing as she did so because as she moved, Logan kept attempting to capture either of her nipples his in his mouth, unsuccessfully, until the shirt joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor. He grabbed her wrists, making her fall into him, which he then took advantage of by planting a hot kiss to her neck. Enjoying his attention, Veronica stilled and let him work his magic until she could handle it no longer. Together they worked the rest of their clothing off, carefully, mindful of Logan's injuries. Soon they were naked and lying together on the bed, each of them rediscovering the other. When Veronica found the wide jagged scar on Logan's thigh, she first fingered it gently and then kissed the length of it before rising back up to kiss his mouth tenderly, trying to convey the remorse and horror of seeing his injury.

They took their time, careful to not agitate Logan's injuries. Veronica took the lead in their lovemaking, aware of her movements to not cause Logan any pain. Amid very small protests, Veronica was able to keep Logan on his back by straddling him. She kissed her way slowly down his body, making her way down lower and lower , finally taking the length of him into her mouth. Bolstered by the hiss of her name on his lips, she licked him delicately, seductively teasing him with her tongue and also with her bare breasts, which were lightly rubbing his bare thighs. She loved looking up at him and seeing the way his pupils dilated with pure lust. She loved how he wrapped her hair in fistfuls, his hips straining against her as she milked him and moved against him. Her body was on fire just seeing and feeling his body responding to her; she loved the heady power it gave her.

When he seemed about to burst, Veronica trailed her tongue up his torso, rubbing each of his nipples with her fingers, and he bucked underneath her. Anticipating her intention, Logan reached over and grabbed his wallet that sat on the nightstand to pull out a condom. Veronica took the wrapper from him, ripping the package hurriedly and quickly sheathing him tightly, and then Logan bucked up into her once again. She grinned up at him, moving her hips just so, and easily he fit into her.

Collectively they gasped their pleasure. They each stilled their movements to stare at each other. Memories flashed through Veronica's mind; of all the times she had longed for this moment and every time she'd denied herself the need of him. She felt the burn of tears threatening to emerge and she fought them by beginning the up and down motions of love, reveling in the feel of his hands on her breasts and the murmur of her name on his lips. His arms then wrapped around her, his hands on her shoulders, pushing himself deeper into her, and she began a rocking motion that made both of their cries to build to an exotic hum of anticipation. She felt his release just as his eyes widened and she felt herself crashing around him. Arching her back, Veronica rode the wave of pleasure as Logan's hands anchored her hips against him; his thumbs dipping down to touch her center as the orgasm ebbed but then began the sweet build up once again.

"Come, baby," Logan coaxed, and Veronica obliged, crying out once again before sinking against him, spent. She breathed in heavily as she listened to the rapid thumping of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Her content smile grew when Logan's hands strummed her back lightly and cupped her ass and squeezed it territorially.

She flipped her hair out of her face and rested her head once again on his chest. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

He squeezed her again. "You couldn't hurt me."

She propped her chin on her hands and looked at him. "Your smile makes me believe you."

"Sex is oddly therapeutic."

She laughed. "Says all men."

"It can right wrongs and make you forget your troubles."

"If only for a moment in time."

"Oh, I can make it more than a moment."

"I believe you."

**BREAK***

They spent the night together in Logan's room, wrapped in each others arms. They spoke of their years apart some, but mostly they slept, because Veronica insisted that Logan needed the rest. By the time the morning dawned, however, Logan's kisses had awoken her and they'd made love once again.

When they finally made their way to the kitchen for breakfast, they found Mac and Dick together at the table, chatting and holding hands. Veronica gave her friend a curious look, but Mac merely shrugged and scooted closer to Dick.

When Bunk came in from outside, he informed them that Cliff had called, saying that Lamb had broken his silence and confessed to everything. Morrison was being hauled in for questioning, and the warehouse that Manny had taken Logan to was being thoroughly inspected. Deputy Norris Clayton was heading an internal investigation with in the Balboa County Sheriff's Office overseen by the San Diego Police Department.

"Logan, I need to talk to you, son."

Bunk's voice was somber, and Veronica knew immediately something was up. "Is it something with my dad?"

Bunk's quick shake of his head reassured her. "No, nothing about Keith. A word, Logan?"

She glanced over to Logan, who noticed the serious tone of his older friend as well, and watched as he slid out from the table and stood to follow Bunk to the hall.

When Veronica made to follow, Logan held up a hand to stop her. Unsure, she fell back into her chair and stared after them, worried.

***BREAK***

Bunk led Logan through the hallway and into the office that Veronica had taken over earlier that week. Once they were both inside, Bunk shut the door and then slowly turned to look at him.

"You're scaring me, Bunk, what's going on?"

Bunk rubbed his chin roughly with a hand. "Son, I don't have real good news to tell ya."

Logan's heart started thumping loudly in his ear. "Just tell me."

"I talked to Barrows this morning."

Barrows was Logan's C.O. He suddenly had a very bad feeling. "Yeah?"

"He's been following this mess, Echo, and it's not good."

"Well, we know it's not good. What's new?"

Bunk started pacing the small length of the room, his hands behind his back. "I think you need to start thinking of a back up plan."

"Back up plan? What does that mean?"

"I mean, I think you ought to start thinking about what you want out of a future that doesn't hold the Navy in it."

He felt hollow. "The Navy is my life, Bunk."

"No, actually, it isn't," the older man argued, stopping directly in front of Logan. He pointed at the door. "Your life is just out there, eating breakfast. Tell me it isn't true."

Logan was silent.

Bunk resumed his pacing. "I've been giving this a fair amount of thought."

"What a lot of thought?"

"What you ought to do. Now, I know you're the one deciding all this, and that I have nothing to do with any of it. You and Veronica have to decide what's right for you."

"Me _and_ Veronica?"

"Tell me it isn't true," Bunk countered again but didn't wait for an answer this time. "Anyway, I want to run something by you. Something crazy, maybe, but…you're like the son I never had, Echo, and I want to extend to you what I can to make sure you're in a place in life where you're living to your potential." When Logan said nothing, he continued, "I've been wanting to open a permanent office down here for some time now. And these few days have given me a nice glimpse into the California way of life; I think I can easily expand to Neptune. If you'd want it."

Logan looked at him curiously. "Want what?"

"To be partners. With me. Run the office down here—be our pilot, be the man. The California Man."

Logan was speechless. Years earlier, Bunk had offered him a place in his firm, but it had involved moving to Seattle and starting a completely different life. This was big, bigger than anything he'd been offered before.

"Now, it will take some time to get up off the ground, you know. But we have a few clients down here already, so that will be a start. And you're going to have to take some time to cut ties with the Navy, but we can be patient with that."

"Cut ties…" Logan echoed dully. "Is it over? Am I through then?"

"Now, not yet. But I think you might be happier if you're the one to end this, Echo. Before they have a chance to come up with a nasty way to get rid of you. Barrows said as much."

***BREAK***

Veronica watched with concern when Logan finally returned to the kitchen. He sank down beside her and pulled a box of cereal open and began pouring it into an empty bowl right.

"Is everything all right?" she asked under her breath.

He shrugged as he continued prepping his breakfast, pouring the milk and then grabbing a nearby spoon. "Just some work stuff."

"Work stuff?" she said skeptically. "Like classified?"

"Exactly," Logan said vaguely. "Not for civilians."

Veronica folded her arms, feeling exceptionally disappointed. Hadn't they just spent the entire night together, in each others arms, regaining trust? There was a small part of her that expected more from him, but the rest of her tried to rationalize that whatever may have happened between them, the fact was that they both had their own lives and their own secrets to keep.

She played off her misgivings by passing him a plate of toast without comment, but he seemed to read her thoughts, because when their fingertips brushed when he took the offered bread, he winked at her. "Relax. I'll tell you later. Right now just isn't a good time." And he looked pointedly at Mac and Dick, who were engrossed in each other. With a smirk, he commented to them, "You two are awfully chipper this morning."

"A good night can do that to a person," Dick agreed with a larger smirk. "And might I say you are looking just as high-spirited as me."

Logan put his arm around Veronica. "You know, you say that, but I think I trump you in that department. Things couldn't be better."

* * *

 **AN: Thank you for reading. Epilogue to follow. I really appreciate your continued interest.**


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